


Darcy is like Puss in Boots (give her a kickass pair of shoes and she will work miracles).

by tgecko



Series: The OT3 borderline crackfic that no one asked for [2]
Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Tags May Change, Threesome - F/M/M, comic book characters means comic book plots, pop culture references like Community up in here, reboot of another fic, unbetaed and only the vaguest idea of a plot, vaguely CA:Civil War compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-11-16 20:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11260425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tgecko/pseuds/tgecko
Summary: Darcy, Bucky, and Wade have won an all-expenses paid trip to anywhere in the world as a prize for a scavenger hunt (and also they rescued Daredevil and Spiderman from that fishbowl guy). The trio are all set to have a relaxing two-week vacation in the French Polynesian islands, but there's a weird guy named Lester following them around, and some woman keeps trying to light Wade on fire.Darcy likes hanging out with superheroes (they make for great eye candy), but damn if this whole foiling evil plots thing isn't putting a crimp in her nice, relaxing vacation.





	1. Buying a whole island technically falls under "all expenses paid" right?

“C’mon Tony, you promised it was all expenses paid.” Darcy wheedled, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes. She was sitting on the lab counter, stirring an opaque brown concoction in a beaker on a hot plate. Peter had much better puppy dog eyes than her, which was why she had interrupted the task she she’d originally came into the labs for (nagging Tony about uncompleted paperwork, naturally) to willingly stir a chemical mixture that had the potential to cause earth shattering kabooms if not mixed at the right tempo.

“All expenses,” Tony looked up from his soldering station to point the iron at her, “does not mean buying a tropical island.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes and huffed an impatient sigh. “You’re trying to tell me that you don’t already own an island? What kind of billionaire playboy are you?” The glass stirrer clinked gently against the sides of the beaker. She watched the small flecks swim in the whirlpool and wondered what kind of experiment Bruce was working on. 

“The kind that doesn’t own an island, oddly enough.” Tony scowled. “And I’m certainly not buying one just so you can play naked croquet or whatever it is you hedonists want to do. Seriously,” he turned an incredulous gaze to Peter, who had his head buried in paperwork in a vain attempt to look like he wasn’t listening to every word. “I’m calling them hedonists. Me. That’s when you know someone’s earned the title of hedonism, right there.” 

A rush of air made nearby papers flutter as Deadpool teleported in. The conversation paused for a moment as he looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. Darcy thought of it as his recalibration period. He’d made some comments before about having a bad memory, so she figured it was something like what Bucky used to have to deal with (sometimes still dealt with). He stared at Peter for a moment, eyes narrowed, then turned to her.

“Wade,” Darcy mock-pouted, “Tony won’t buy us an island for winning the scavenger hunt.” 

He relaxed ever so slightly and strode over to her. “D-light!” He pulled the bottom of his mask up high enough for a kiss that was deliciously hot and filthy, placing his hands on her waist and sliding into her personal space until they were pressed together from shoulders to hips. 

“Reel it in, there are children present!” Darcy pulled away to see Tony with a hand over Peter’s eyes, presumably having rushed over to protect young Petey’s innocence. 

“I’m not a kid, Mr. Stark.” Peter mumbled, but he didn’t try to pull Tony’s hand away despite his spider-strength. 

Deadpool pulled away a smidge, moving his hands from Darcy’s waist to rub her thighs in a light massage. “I don’t know, Lew-Lew. Do you really want to go to an island owned by a mad genius?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy could see Tony consider protesting the comment and preening over the back-handed compliment instead.

“Island of Dr. Moreau, Jurassic Park, Krakoa, Shutter Island, The Incredibles, that island from the movie The Island… You just can’t trust an island owned by a mad genius. Shit’s gonna go sideways.”

Clearly indignant, Tony left his self-appointed position as Protector of Peter’s Innocence and went back to his soldering.

“Hmm..” Darcy thought for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s a good point. No need to ruin a perfectly good vacation being chased by inaccurate depictions of dinosaurs.” She raised both hands next to her face to mimic frills and hiss/screeched her best imitation of the movie dinosaur.

“Darcy, the beaker!” Peter cried, gesturing frantically at the abandoned stirrer. Darcy ‘eep’ed and returned to task, stirring a little bit faster now in the hopes that it would counteract whatever detrimental effect had been caused by the brief pause.

“I resemble that remark,” she could faintly hear Tony grumble from his work station. Then: “I thought I blocked your teleportation frequency the last time you came by unannounced. How the hell did you get in this time?”

“Oh gosh,” Wade twisted around in a display of flexibility that would never fail to wind her up. “It’s almost like you aren’t the only genius techie guy in this setting. As if there wasn’t, oh say, a mutant whose sole power is to invent technological marvels as the plot demands.” Wade turned back to Darcy and snuck in another quick kiss. “Speaking of completely unrelated segues, you ready for tomorrow, babe?”

She grinned into the kiss, her heart feeling like it was dancing in her chest. “Absolutely! As soon as Bruce comes back and takes over the whatever-the-heck-this-is, I’m wrapping up here and heading home to pack.” She bounced in excitement, a move that had Wade pressing back against her and kissing her with renewed enthusiasm.

“For gods’ sake, think of the children!” Tony shouted from across the room, but this time he didn’t move to protect Peter’s assumed innocence. (Peter thought about objecting again but ultimately considered it not worth the effort.)

Wade slid his hands down and gave her ass a quick squeeze before drawing away. “I’m going to go looking for Smoochie-poo. You have fun with your science biz that absolutely isn’t morally gray mad genius experiments.” He tucked his mask back in place and skipped out of the lab.

“I think he’s in the shooting range with Clint about now,” Darcy called after his retreating figure, using the opportunity to ogle that tight, tight ass with a complete and utter lack of shame.

The lab returned to its normal state after Deadpool’s interruption, with Darcy and Tony verbally sparring with each other about nothing of consequence with Peter occasionally chiming in, demonstrating a wit that was just as sharp as their own, even if he was still somewhat leery about wielding it as freely as they did.

Bruce returned about forty-five minutes later, glanced at Darcy (who was currently engaged in an argument with Tony about why Count Chocula was clearly superior to Sonny the Cuckoo) and stopped in his tracks.

“Darcy,” he asked, confusion clearly written on his face and in the tone of his voice, “why are you stirring my tea?” Behind him, Tony was cackling with glee while Peter was trying (and failing) to hide a smug grin.

She glared at them (shame, Peter, using the puppy dog eyes for evil!), then her face stretched into an unholy grin that would rival the Grinch's. "You realize," she purred, hopping off the counter and striding to their work station, leaning over the table and enjoying the way they unconsciously leaned back, "that I now have two _completely uninterrupted_ weeks to plot my revenge? And here I had just planned on reading Harlequins and working on my tan." (It would definitely involve glitter. All the best/worst pranks involved glitter.) She blew Bruce a kiss before strutting out of the lab, uttering her best evil laugh.


	2. Workout Times are Fun Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade's intelligence is insulted (twice). The Marx brothers are referenced (twice). Bucky gets a workout in. Wade tries to make the inevitable disruption of their vacation easier by doing some fact-finding prior to departure. If Darcy ever got an eyeful of these two working out, the gym might be permanently shut down.
> 
> Gratuitous smut. And some Tagalog courtesy of Google Translate.

Bucky liked the calm routine of the firing range. A specific number of bullets, fired at a target set up at a fixed distance away. The earmuffs that blocked out all but his own heartbeat. Breathe out, pause, squeeze. 

The firing range was its own routine. First, he would practice for about fifteen minutes on his own. Then Clint would wander in and offer up a friendly wager and Bucky would accept even though he lost more often than not (he currently owed Clint at least 15 dozen jelly donuts). Today’s wager involved firing using the non-dominant hand. He shouldn’t have accepted, there was no such thing as a non-dominant hand as far as Clint was concerned (make that 16). 

They both were aware of someone entering the firing range, though neither one reacted until they had emptied their clips. Bucky glanced over his shoulder at their guest. When he noticed who it was, he grinned and gestured to Clint that he was done for the day.

Routine was nice, but that didn’t mean that spontaneity was a bad thing, either.

“Hey, hot stuff!” Deadpool leaned against the door frame, posed in a way that was meant to be an artful display of the man’s impressive physique. He winked at Bucky, the mask clearly conveying the flirtatious move. (Bucky and Darcy had checked for advanced technology but found nothing more than simple spandex.)

“You want to go a round with us?” Clint offered, hands resting on the purple (of course) ear muffs currently hanging around his neck.

“I dunno, has it been cleared through Darcy yet?” Communication is important in a polyamorous relationship. Well, all relationships, but more people equals more communication. Short answer, always, except for M.O.D.O.K.”

Clint paused. Blinked. “Well,” in a dry tone, “I asked, but Darcy said no because she’s already got enough stupid to go around and didn’t need any more. I was actually talking about the firing range.” 

Deadpool looked at Bucky, who shrugged and started breaking down his pistol. “If you like. I was going to hit the gym for a couple of hours.”

“Sorry, Hawk Guy.” Deadpool pointed finger guns Clint’s way and fired. “I follow the guy who’s going to bang me like a screen door in a hurricane that lands in less than 24 hours.” The merc smirked and blew a kiss at Bucky (who didn’t bother to hide his smile). “I’m going ahead to scout out the locker room so I know which cameras are best angled to catch the money shot. Toodles!”

\---..---

Despite his commentary, Deadpool was nowhere to be found in the locker room. Instead, Bucky found him standing next to the free weights, having somehow located and donned (over his suit) a half-shirt, short-shorts, leg warmers, and a sweatband, all in pastels. He was stretching in front of the mirrored wall while talking to himself. (Himselves?) When he spotted Bucky’s reflection, he spun around to face the other man directly, arms spread wide.

“Smoochie-poo! What’s on the agenda for today? Jazzercise? Zumba? A vigorous round of hide-the-salami?” He waggled his eyebrows while ashing an imaginary cigar and continued in a near-perfect Groucho Marx impression. “In case you can’t tell, I’m talking about sex.”

“It’s always funny when people assume that Steve or I don’t get innuendo because of the era we grew up in,” Bucky said, passing by the other man to pick up a weight and started lifting. “Have you ever heard The Aristocrats joke? It’s a very popular vaudevillian joke.” 

Deadpool shook his head. So, in between reps, Bucky repeated the famous joke as best as he could recall, making up what he couldn’t. By the end of it, the normally loquacious man was completely silent, jaw gaping open.

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Normally I’d say close your mouth, you’re catching flies, but I reckon the mask kinda makes that a non-issue.”

“Well that just put to bed any worries I might have had about offending you.” Deadpool sat on a nearby weight bench, watching Bucky as he moved through a few different exercises. “Has Darcy seen you in the gym yet?” Bucky shook his head in the negative. “Good thing. That firecracker has no self-restraint. If she saw all this-“ Deadpool waved his hand at the flexing and sweat-shining specimen of manhood currently smirking at him. “Well then I would have to try and compete, then the both of us would be laid out on the mat like we’d gone a round with Andre the Giant.”

“But you’re clearly a role model for self-restraint,” Bucky snorted, eyes flicking to the mats laid out just a few feet away. It was a testament to his own restraint that he moved to the next exercise rather than dragging Wade over to the mats and taking him up on every innuendo and overt sexual challenge that had been issued.

Deadpool shook his head. “Just enough to wait for you to finish getting swole.”

On the other hand, why bother denying himself? “Well then,” Bucky laid down his weights and strode over to Deadpool, placing his hands on the man’s thighs and feeling the thick muscle flex as he leaned into the mercenary’s (practically non-existent) personal space. “My last exercise is pulling that sled over there. Let’s have you jump on the weight I normally pull. If I can pull the sled with your weight on it, how about a little reward? Or,” he flicked his gaze down to the other man’s crotch. “Not-so-little, as the case may be.” 

Bucky got the sense that Wade’s startled pauses when they flirted with him were not due to discomfort from the nature of the comments, but that they were directed at him. As if he wanted to look around to make sure there was no one standing behind him and just barely kept from displaying that damning evidence of weakness. 

“After all,” Bucky crowded closer, sliding his hand along Wade’s thigh and skipping over his hip to grab the edge of the bench. “You did all that work to find the best camera angle. Be a shame to waste it.” He leaned forward to nip at the tip of the other man’s nose.

“Hot diggity daffodil.” Wade swallowed audibly, then slithered past Bucky (taking the opportunity for a whole-body rub that had Bucky’s breath hitching in his throat) to take his place on the weighted sled. He looked good enough to eat, but…

Bucky cleared his throat, then spoke to the room at large while staring at Wade. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., lock down the gym. We don’t want any company.” Wade tensed, then smirked and struck a pose for Bucky, using his incredible flexibility to brace his feet on the bars of the sled, curled up so his knees were next to his ears. “You really want to inspire me? Strip.”

The words had hardly left his mouth before a pair of Rick and Morty boxers were slingshot across the room to land on his head. When he pulled them away, he was greeted with the sight of Wade stroking his cock, heavy and weeping in one hand while he cradled his balls with the other.

This time it was Bucky who swallowed hard, and he had to take a moment to readjust himself as blood rushed to his own growing cock. Then he picked up the rope attached to the sled with his organic hand and gave a hard yank. 

“Oh yeah,” Wade growled, reaching behind him to brace himself with one hand while he continued to stroke himself with the other. “That’s the ticket. You remember the way my hand felt on you in that trunk?” The sled scooched forward another few inches. “My mouth is going to feel even better.” The sled rocked forward again. “Then,” Wade’s hand abandoned his cock and he lifted it to his mouth, covering his index finger in saliva until a thin line of it stretched between his finger and his tongue when he drew it away. All the while his eyes never left Bucky’s. Another strong yank forward. Wade stroked his hand down his body, brushing past the cock that strained toward his belly button and further down. “I’m going to ride you like a rodeo clown.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, shaking his head before yanking on the rope again. “You’re the clown. And,” he grabbed the rope with his bionic hand to hold it in place while he reached up with his other arm. “Not without Darcy.” The last word spoken on a grunt as he pulled the rope again. There were only a few feet between them now.

Wade nodded in agreement, then groaned as his spit-dampened finger pressed against his hole. “Shit, yeah. Screw the both of you six ways from Sunday.” 

Bucky waited, timing his next pull so that it rocked Wade onto his finger, earning a shocked moan for his efforts. He and Wade worked in concert through the last few pulls until the runners of the sled touched his toes and Wade’s finger was fully buried in his ass. 

Wade pulled his hand free and lurched forward, but Bucky was faster, kneeling before the other man and drawing Wade’s erection into his mouth, licking a wide stripe from base to tip before pulling it into his mouth and swallowing Wade nearly to the root on the first pass.

Wade cursed, stroking one hand over Bucky’s sweat-dampened hair. “If this is what you consider a reward, Smoochie-poo, I will happily reward you just for waking up in the morning.” Bucky hummed in appreciation, looking up at Wade through his lashes while stroking his thumbs along the inside of Wade’s thighs. He pulled away from Wade’s cock and used his thumbs to plump up his balls. He pulled the firm globes into his mouth and sucked. Hard. 

A loud metal ‘clang’ echoed in the empty gym as Wade’s head thunked against one of the metal bars of the sled. The sound was followed by Wade’s talking, a noise that became a constant litany of words that were borderline nonsensical. After a few minutes, Bucky returned his attention to Wade’s neglected cock, now weeping pre-cum. He licked the bitter liquid away, tracing the veins outlined in the shaft with his tongue before swallowing until the spongy tip of Wade’s cock teased the back of his throat and his lips stretched tight. 

“Aw, shit.” Wade ran his thumb over Bucky’s lips, reddened with friction. “Are you going to take me all the way in? Can you? If you can’t, that’s all right, but-“ Wade’s near-constant monologue transformed into a wordless groan as Bucky swallowed, hard and strong, pushing forward until he was breathing out through his nose in rough pants against Wade’s groin. 

A thrill of satisfaction ran through him at reducing Wade to a series of wordless moans and grasping hands. He rutted helplessly against thin air while he used his throat to pull Wade into a climax, swallowing the bitter release until Wade slumped over him like a boneless jelly creature. 

“You- You’re just-“ Wade muttered, loosely wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as he was hefted into the air by a horny cyborg. “You just sucked my brains out of my dick. Good job, A++, highly recommended.”

“Well that explains why there wasn’t much when you came,” Bucky joked, pushing Wade into the mirrored wall until his own unsatisfied erection was nestled in the crook of Wade’s hip and thigh. 

Wade laughed, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s hips and wrapping his hands in Bucky’s hair, twisting the sweaty strands through his fingers. “I didn’t come here to be insulted.”

“Where do you usually go?” Bucky smirked, capturing the scarred mercenary’s mouth in a rough and dirty kiss before he could come up with an appropriate comeback. Between the rutting, rough kiss, and strong hands groping at various body parts, he was coming in the space between breaths (and all over his gym clothes), strong and hard pulses that drained his energy more effectively than any workout.

He slumped against Wade, pushing his forehead into the cool glass of the mirror. Their reflection quickly fogged up underneath his panting breath. Beneath him, Wade unclamped his legs from Bucky’s hips, relying on Bucky to support him while he stretched his legs out and wiggled his toes.

“Whew! We need to patent that workout and sell it on QVC! Or whatever infomercial network Chuck Norris uses. I bet there’s a whole untapped market of sex addicts who need a workout program that fits their needs.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling away from the mirror to rest his forehead against Wade’s, meeting the other man for a kiss. Their tongues met and stroked against each other, reveling in the weight and heat, before Wade pulled away as far as he was able.

“So, would now be a bad time to talk about work?”

\---..---

“Darcy’s going to be even more pissed.” Bucky called from the locker room’s shower before ducking his head under the spray. Wade lounged on one of the benches outside the shower area, idly kicking one of the metal lockers.

“Look, it’s a fact of life that superheroes like yourselves can’t take vacations without being interrupted by some kind of world-saving shit going down.” Each kick of his food punctuated the statement and the resulting metal ‘twang’ echoed through the acoustically vibrant space. “I tried to pre-empt any potentially vacation ruining events by scoping out possible work prior to departing on our vacation.” He paused. “I feel like if there was more effort involved in that last sentence, it would be an admirable attempt at alliteration.” Another pause. “Eh, that’s good enough. Anyway, something was bound to come up. This way, we have a heads’ up on it and the scales are balanced in our favor.”

Bucky sighed as he grabbed the nearby towel and roughly toweled himself off. “Even if you’re right, I’ve never heard of this _Hiyas ng dagat_. It’s could be something that came up after I fell off the radar, or something that they didn’t consider important enough to worry about.” He pulled the towel off his head to see Wade leaving the locker room.

“Goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow, can’t wait for our vacation.” Bucky grumbled at the now empty locker room.


	3. Wade is...surprisingly bad at imitating the moves he's seen on a pole (to be fair, he wasn't focusing on the technique).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DBD on a plane, redux. A penthouse suite that needs to exist IRL (and if it does, I need to go there immediately).

“Heck yeah, private plane Eff-Tee-Dubs!”  Darcy cheered as she threw her smaller carry-on bag onto one of the nearby recliners.  Overly excited by the upcoming trip, she ended up throwing it with enough force that it rolled across the seat and over the armrest, then onto the floor.

As the bag passed over the armrest, it pressed a random combination of buttons that just so happened to turn on disco lights.  A soft ‘whrr’ sound announced the arrival of a shiny chrome pole rising from the floor to latch firmly into the ceiling.  “And there’s a pole!  Holy moly guys, there’s a pole!”  Darcy clapped her hands with delight, then spun on her heel and fell back into the heavily cushioned couches that surrounded said pole.  “All right, who’s ready to give me a show?”

Bucky glanced at Wade out of the corner of his eye, a sly smirk pulling at his lips.  “If I were a betting man, I’d wager that you already have a routine lined up.”

Wade grinned, tossing his gear onto a nearby chair before lacing his fingers together and pulling them high in a full body stretch that pulled the hem of his shirt away from the edge of his jeans to display a tantalizing strip of scarred skin above his hipbone.  “Why Buckaroo,” he smirked, resting his hands behind his head and rocking back on his heels indolently.  “If you were a betting man, how much would you wager?”

Bucky met the scarred man’s gaze and licked his lips.  A full-body shiver rocked Darcy from head to toe at the hot stares being leveled between the two men.  Her full lips parted on a sigh, a breath of sound that went unnoticed by both men.  Bucky’s lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes at Wade.

“I’d wager a kiss,” he murmured, sidling up to Wade and reaching out a hand to the skin on display between shirt and jeans.  Darcy licked her lips in anticipation, shifting around on the couch until she could press her thighs tightly together.  Meanwhile Bucky was grabbing Wade’s waist, his thumb pressing into the dip next to Wade’s hip bone.  “What do you say, Wade?  Do you have a routine ready for us?”  He leaned in until their mouths were just barely touching, breaths mixing together in the intimate space.  “You gonna take that bet, Wade?”

(They both loved watching how Wade shivered whenever they said his name.)

Wade hummed and reached out, his hand skimming over Bucky’s (metal) arm and shoulder and on to grip the pole behind him.  “I’ll take that bet and you’re gonna regret it, ‘cause I’m the best that’s ever been.”

“Fire on the mountain, run boys, run!” Darcy shouted from the couch, clapping excitedly. 

(Honestly… Wade’s performance kind of sucked.)  Wade had some half-formed memories and a near inhuman flexibility and strength that he tried to transform into a pole-dancing routine, but over the two hour period that he tried, it never coalesced into anything as tempting as what his scrambled memories could recall.

That didn’t stop him from pulling Darcy onto the pole and teaching her some basics (a form of teaching that seemed to involve a lot of groping, teasing, and giggling on both sides).  And Darcy, well, to say she took to pole dancing like a duck to water would be… a blatant lie.  But it really didn’t matter to Bucky as much as it seemed to matter to them.  Bucky watched Wade supporting Darcy while she held herself up using only her thigh muscles and saw two people who dived headfirst into life and had no regrets.

(Not that he’d ever tell them.  “No regerts!” Darcy had laughed when she saw some piece of advertisement with the phrase “no regrets” emblazoned on it.  Bucky didn’t quite get the reference, but he didn’t really want to ask.)

Instead he enjoyed the way Wade’s arm muscles bulged when he kissed Darcy’s upside-down mouth.

“Spiderman kiss!” She and Wade crowed, then in a short amount of time it was Wade sharing an upside-down kiss with Darcy while Bucky supported him with a bionic arm. 

Then she was pulling away from them with an exaggerated groan.  “Oh gods,” Darcy moaned, stumbling over to throw herself in the welcome embrace of the softly cushioned couch nearby.  “My thighs are aching.  I need TLC.  Seriously, how do women do that for an entire 8-hour shift?”

“Aw, is ickwle babies sore?”  Wade stretched out next to her, aligning himself so that his mouth hovered just above her crotch while strong hands massaged her thighs.  “I can take care of that for you.”

She hummed in delight, a hum repeated at an even louder volume when Bucky slid into the seat next to her, three tumblers gathered in his hands. 

“Found the mini-bar.”  The drink he handed to her was something fruity, alcoholic, and sweet.  Darcy sighed happily, scooching back until she was seated sideways in Bucky’s lap.  Wade shifted with her until his head was pillowed on Darcy’s stomach at just the right angle to sip from his drink without spilling (so long as there wasn’t turbulence). 

Bucky slung his arm over her shoulder, fingertips flirting with the neckline of her shirt.  Darcy tilted her head far enough to brush her lips against his bicep.  “Awesome way to start a vacation,” she said, sipping at her drink while settling her other hand gently on the crown of Wade’s skull, lightly tracing the scars and welts that warped the thin flesh.

“So,” Bucky sipped from the (probably ridiculously expensive crystal) tumbler.  “That was entertaining.  What do we do for the rest of the flight?”

Darcy shrugged.  Whatever cocktail Bucky had made her was deliciously alcoholic; her blood thrummed in her veins and she was drifting into the warm floating phase of being drunk.  “Whatever we want, home slice.  We’re on vacation.”

\---..---

Tony Stark may not have bought a tropical island for them, but the penthouse suite in their hotel would probably ruin all future vacations for Darcy.  When the elevator doors opened and she saw the view for the first time, she ran to the windows and pressed up against them until her nose flattened and her glasses clinked against the thick glass.

This particular hotel had opted to build down, instead of up, using the clear waters as an attraction for tourists who could afford the literal ocean view.  As a result, those lucky enough to visit the penthouse suite had a 360 degree view of the nearby coral reefs and the brilliant ecosystem that thrived within.

Darcy followed a school of fish as they swam around the perimeter of the room, then craned her neck up to watch a shark swim in a lazy circle.  “This is so amazing!”  It was like underwater tunnels in aquariums, except she would be literally sleeping with the fishes for two weeks.  “I declare this vacation to be the literal best ever,” she grinned, completely oblivious to the stern look Bucky aimed at Wade.  “There is now going to be at least one day where I do nothing but drink and watch fish.”

Neither one of the guys seemed to be as impressed with the engineering marvel they were currently staying in.  Whatever.  She shrugged, turning back to the amazing view.  With every exhale, tension she didn’t even know existed was draining away.  Darcy huffed a soft laugh under her breath, a laugh that was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Looks like jet lag is conveniently kicking in,” Wade murmured in her ear as he leaned in to wrap his arms around her and rest his chin on her head.  “Why don’t you go take a nap, rest up for a bit?”

She leaned back into him.  “You going to tuck me in?”  Her sultry voice was ruined by another huge yawn. 

Wade chuckled before swooping down and pulling her into a good old-fashioned bridal-hold.  She yelped, startled by the sudden move, then flung her arms around his neck and batted her eyelashes up at him. 

She was soon nestled under the covers with a minimum of nookie (said nookie taking the form of some minor making out with Bucky and Wade that kept being interrupted despite her best efforts to stifle her yawns). 

As soon as the door to the bedroom closed, Bucky was hustling Wade across to the opposite end of the suite, his arm a steel band (literally and figuratively) around the other man’s neck.  “You’re still going through with this?” 

Wade glanced at the closed door, then gave Bucky a sheepish smile and shrugged.  “It’s a retrieval job, it’ll be one day.  Half a day, really.  I bet you won’t even notice that I’m gone.” 

Bucky sighed.  “A retrieval job for something that you don’t even know what it is?  Other than a name that translates into the oh-so-specific phrase ‘Jewel of the Sea.’ Do you know if it’s animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

“Hey now,” the merc frowned, feathers ruffled by the disapproving tone in Bucky’s voice.  “I don’t have a lot of resources for jobs since this Weasel is a bartender and not a techno-geek.  I was going to go with the ‘shoot a bunch of people and ask questions’ until I found what I was looking for.  It’s been working so far.”

“’So far,’” Bucky echoed, then heaved another sigh.  “All right.  How long do we have until this ‘half day’ job?”

Wade grinned upon hearing the word ‘we,’ straightening his shoulders and meeting Bucky’s gaze head-on.  “It isn’t until next week, so we have plenty of time to play good cop/bad cop between the sheets and on the streets.”

“Damn it,” Bucky grumbled, amusement fighting with annoyance.  It would probably be fine.

“Looking forward to working with you, smoochie-poo.  It’s going to be a blast!”

They were so fucked.


	4. Good news, everyone!  The hotel gift shop carries condoms! (Now you're reading this in Prof. Farnsworth's voice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy overhears a conversation that maybe should not have been overheard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for a good week or two I had this scene already written and a plan for a really long chapter. Then computer shit happened and I lost two pages of progress. >:( I figured I'd try to recreate what I'd lost and make a small update now just in case my electronics try to revolt and lose my hard-won progress again.

Darcy woke in the middle of the night with her legs and her right shoulder roasting like a Thanksgiving turkey. She pulled her legs free from where they were intertwined with Bucky’s and pushed Wade’s drooling mug off her shoulder, wiggling and flopping her way across the bed until she was able to roll free and pad barefooted into the bathroom. In her absence, Wade and Bucky migrated towards, two super-powered space heaters snuggling up like a pile of puppies.

She leaned over, a hand on each well-muscled shoulder. “Bathroom,” she murmured, not fool enough to believe that either of them were actually still awake after her efforts to free herself. Wade murmured something incomprehensible in reply, wiggling closer to Bucky until his nose was buried in the other man’s neck. Bucky cracked an eye open long enough to make visual contact with her, then smirked as he curled a hand on the nape of Wade’s neck.

Darcy relieved herself and was in the process of washing her hands and other minor bathroom-related activities when she realized (horror of horrors) that she had forgotten to pack toothpaste. “Shit.” Well, that meant a trip to the hotel gift shop for some sundries. She double-checked her bathroom kit (could definitely do with some more condoms) and tried to pull on some pajama pants as quietly as she could. (Like there was a point, really. They were both fully aware of what she was doing, even if their eyes were closed.) Before she left, she laid a hand on Wade’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper; “hotel gift shop.”

Then she slipped flip-flops on and padded her drowsy self down to the still-open gift shop to buy some much-needed toiletries. She was in the middle of browsing postcards to send to Jane when the strident tones of an arguing couple drifted through the store to be overheard by Darcy and the cashier (so they could share the awkwardness equally, what kind folks this random couple were, to allow Darcy and… Nancy, according to her nametag, to share this fun experience).

“You can be a grouch all you want. The Big Man paid for this trip and I plan to take full advantage of it.” 

Darcy smiled at Nancy, accepting her change and purchase, then drifting over to the touristy travel brochures, all the better to eavesdrop on the strange couple’s conversation.

“Look, kids are a fucking pain in the ass. Full. Stop.” 

She glanced at the couple’s reflection in the mirror. A non-descript white man, completely unremarkable except for his (terrible, absolutely terrible) toupee. A red-headed woman with a grin sharp enough to draw blood. 

“No one’s arguing that, _Lester_.” The reflection of the red-head tossed her hair over her shoulder, then propped her hand on her hip. “But so far no fuckwad has shot at me and the kid just wants to eat mac and cheese for every meal. I would sell my fucking soul to have a job this easy, and if you’re going to be a bitch about this you can go back to Hell’s Kitchen while I feed a green brat a welfare mommy’s feast.”

Lester sneered at his partner, baring his teeth in an expression that was nearly feral. “All right Mary, let’s take a bet. If this job goes off without a hitch, I’ll give you my entire share. You can have the entire payoff.”

In the reflective glass, Darcy saw the red-headed woman preen. She remembered that she was pretending to be browsing the display of brochures. She picked one up at random and pretended to read as the couple continued to argue.

“But,” Lester continued, crossing his arms and giving his partner a hard look, “this is going to go tits-up. And when it does, you give me your share. Fair?”

Sensing the conversation was coming to an end, Darcy grabbed various pamphlets, completely disregarding their actual contents, and hustled off to the elevators. Just barely out of her range of hearing, she caught the woman saying;

“Open to any suggestions on what to do with the cow pretending not to eavesdrop at the brochures.”


	5. Shirtless Bucky Barnes (this was supposed to be a smut-fic.  Why is there plot?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I need practice at writing smut, here is smut.

When Darcy opened the door to the suite and got a load of the view waiting for her, she was sure she had died and gone to heaven. Sexy heaven. Whatever the sex version of Valhalla was, that’s where she was going.

Bucky was leaning against the kitchen island, his profile turned toward her. His head was tilted back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he greedily chugged from a bottle. The dim lighting in the room highlighted the thick muscles of his bare chest and abs, glinting off his metallic arm. His chest was scattered with a light dusting of dark hair that thickened and narrowed into a line that disappeared behind the unbuttoned waist of his jeans. His feet were bare (and she had never really thought about a man’s feet being that sexy before, but damn).

“Bucky.”

He glanced at her, head tilted (curious Bucky equals Quizzical Dog, it never failed to amuse her) as he set his drink down on the island. “What’s up?”

“Just stand still for a second.” She toed her shoes off before padding closer in bare feet, waving a hand at his general ovary-melting sexiness. “Because this needs to be preserved for posterity and put in a museum. Or failing that, I need to take a picture for use in my Spank Bank.”

Bucky blankly mouthed the words ‘spank bank’ before her meaning dawned on him. He dipped his head and peeked at her through his eyelashes and the grin that spread across his face was pure sin. “Darlin’ you won’t need to take any pictures because I’ll be more than happy to show off for you any time you like.” He held out his hand. She placed her hand in his, smiling up at him as he wrapped his arms around her. 

She threaded her fingers through his hair, using her nails to scratch lightly at his scalp while their lips met in a hungry kiss. In response, he moaned and reached down to grab her thighs, dragging her up his body until her legs were wrapped around his waist. He devoured her mouth with lips and teeth and tongue. She was so caught up in the sensation of his kiss and the way he moaned into her when she tugged at his hair that she almost didn’t notice him setting her down on the kitchen island.

Once she was settled Bucky drew away from her, lightly scraping her bottom lip with his teeth. “Sweet as candy,” he murmured, thumbs stroking just under the elastic band of her pajama pants, then pushing further, under the edge of her panties, until he was just brushing the edge of her pubic hair. “You sweet all over, babe?” He curled his fingers and she lifted her hips, the two of them working in tandem to remove her clothing. Her breath skipped in a hiccup as she watched him kneel onto the cold tile, tossing her clothes away and placing his large, hot hands on her ankles. Any smart-ass remark she could have made was quickly stifled when he placed her feet on his shoulders and pulled her hips to the edge of the counter. “Yeah, you look real sweet.”

“Oh shit.” Darcy never let go of her hold on his hair. When he made first contact with her, lightly stroking his tongue against her outer lips, she curled around him until she felt like she would break in half. He flicked his tongue against her clit and she dug her fingernails into his scalp so hard she was sure she drew blood. 

She wasn’t even aware of how hard she was flexing her feet until warm hands wrapped around them, calloused fingers massaging the soles. Darcy sluggishly opened her eyes and met Wade’s gaze. He pulled one of her feet off Bucky’s shoulder and thrust his tongue between her toes, his gaze never leaving hers as he slowly tongue-fucked her foot.

She had never thought of foot-worship being a huge trigger for her, but something about Bucky and Wade making oral love to her while maintaining intense eye contact had her orgasming in a quick, intense rush that left her flushed and gasping for breath.

Wade grabbed Bucky’s chin and pulled him around, his tongue laving over Bucky’s chin and cheeks until he had cleaned up every bit of Darcy’s cum off Bucky’s face. The clean up quickly transformed into an intense kiss as Wade dropped Darcy’s foot to run his palm down Bucky’s firmly muscled body, digging into his jeans and wrapping around the firm length barely contained by the denim. Bucky groaned, his hips jerking erratically into Wade’s grip. Darcy uttered a short, hiccupping moan.

“Can we,” Darcy swallowed hard, digging her fingers into Bucky’s scalp again as he turned back to her and his tongue laved her genitals in a flat, wide stroke, “Can we move this to some place more horizontal?” No other prompting was needed. Bucky rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around her. Once again, her legs were wrapped around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom and laid her out on the bed. Wade followed them into the bedroom, flopping down onto the bed next to her.

“Yay, boobies!” Wade chuckled, shifting around so that his face was buried in Darcy’s luscious cleavage. He blew raspberries into the soft flesh. It tickled far more than it aroused; Darcy cried in protest and pushed at his shoulders. In response, he shifted until he was between Darcy and Bucky, the length of his textured torso pressing hers into the soft hotel bed. Bucky cuddled in behind them, his thighs pushing both Darcy and Wade’s legs apart until there were two sets of limbs cradling his hips.

“Yes, yes, so very yes.” Wade bucked up against Bucky while he dived in for a kiss to Darcy’s eager mouth. “Shit yeah,” Wade moaned when the tip of Bucky’s hard on caught on his tail bone and his own erection was pulled through Darcy’s thoroughly wet cunt (thanks to Bucky’s earlier vigorous oral efforts). “Okay, yes, let’s do it like this. Right now, right here.” Then an incessant stream of ‘yes!’ as they rocked against him and he returned the pressure.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Darcy cried out, reaching one hand to blindly slap at the night stand drawer while she used her other hand to discourage Wade from even thinking about pulling away from her breasts. “Condoms. Condoms now.”

The trio separated long enough to ensure that proper contraceptive techniques were in place, then drew back together like magnets and ferrous metal.

“Ready?” Darcy panted into Wade’s mouth, though she wasn’t talking to him. (She had a moment to regret not buying more lube at the hotel gift shop. They had some, she knew, but like condoms, she was sure they would exhaust their current supply.)

Behind Wade, Bucky shook his head. “Needs some prep.” Darcy groaned, both of her hands grasping the base of Wade’s skull and drawing him to her. Their mouths were pressed together, though they were both more interested in breathing in each other’s spaces. After a moment, Wade gasped into her mouth, and she took the opportunity to bite at his upper lip.

“One finger,” Bucky grunted behind them.

Wade sighed into her and she clutched him even tighter. Then he tensed.

“Two fingers.” 

Darcy licked into Wade’s mouth. 

“Three fingers.”

She pushed a hard and fast kiss to Wade’s lips. Then she reached down… and swallowed Wade’s startled gasp as she pushed the head of his cock into her. “Into the breach,” she murmured against his lips, nipping at them and laughing when he tried to crush his lips against hers. Then Bucky pushed into Wade and Wade was powering into Darcy until her thighs were limp noodles around his waist and she had her hands thrown over her head, enjoying the feeling of her men pushing into her. Rushes like ocean waves powered through her from the two men. She braced her feet as best she could to accept them, but still they rocked her from head to toe. 

Electricity arced from the base of her spine to her finger tips, rolling over her in waves that ignited sparks in every nerve, pulsing in time with the crash of Bucky and Wade’s hips against hers. 

Wade tucked his head into the crook of her shoulder, his hot breath rushing over the sensitive flesh of her ear. Meanwhile Bucky was digging his teeth into the meat of Wade’s shoulder, stifling his grunts and moans into the thick, muscular flesh. 

She came first, and she came best, Darcy reckoned, using her nails to massage both men’s scalps and enjoying the satisfied groans they both let loose (even if there was a wee bit too much weight on her right now. Seriously, how was she supposed to breathe under 400 pounds of tightly packed muscle?). Eventually she smacked them one after the other, pushing at their combined weight. “Need to breathe,” she managed to eke out through tightly compacted lungs, then gasped in relief when the pressure was eased.

“Drama queen,” Wade mumbled, wrapping an arm around her waist and cuddling in so his chin was resting on her shoulder.

“Yes,” Bucky murmured, his pillow tossed over his head while his ankles intertwined with Darcy’s. “What a terrible personality fault, to desire breathing over skin contact with lovers.”

“Shush.” Darcy weakly patted at them both. “Sleep time now.” Her dismissive words were counteracted by the way she pulled them both closer. 

\---..---

If Darcy were to ever have a chance to redesign the human body, she would certainly, *absolutely* redesign it so that the need to empty the bladder would never, *never* happen when one was sleeping. She had been victim to far too many episodes of perfect sleep interrupted by the demands of nature, and today was an unfortunate example of biology interrupting comfort.

Once again, she pulled herself free from her two space heaters, gracelessly clambering over Bucky and rolling across the endless expanse of mattress until one foot arced over the bedspread to sweep through empty space and brush against the criminally luxurious carpet. Then she was pushing herself (sleepily and reluctantly) to her feet and padding across the bedroom to the bathroom.

At some point in time, she would have to take a picture of this bathroom and post it on social media. The designers of the hotel had seamlessly integrated the nearby reef structure in a way that made the bathroom seem like an extension of the landscape. Instead of a bathroom with expensive ceramic fixtures, she was cleaning herself in a marine grotto.

Darcy was relaxing in the bathtub, which was tucked away in the corner of the bathroom, letting her have an uninhibited view of the marine life and making kissy faces at the schools of fish that swam by. As far as she knew, there was no way to be more relaxed; she was literally the most relaxed person on the planet, every bit of tension completely drained.

She scanned the beautiful view before her, taking in the bright schools of fish, the gently waving coral, the green child-like entity staring at her with giant black eyes, the predatory fish swimming overhead…

The green child-like entity…

Staring at her…

Through the several inches’ thick plexiglass…

Darcy snatched a nearby towel and dragged it across the rocky surface of the bathtub until it covered her bits and bobs. (She may or may not have uttered an undignified shriek. That is still out for deliberation.) 

The green child startled at her sudden movement, darting away into the inky blackness. Which left Darcy with the pleasant task of trying to explain why she had been shouting in fear at the sight of a strange fish. 

(It was extremely frustrating. Apparently Atlanteans could exist, but if Darcy tried to describe seeing a little green fish-child, suddenly she was completely irrational. Evidently little green fish-children fell into the ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ category.)

(If Wade and Bucky were upset at the constant presence of her camera phone during sexy times and the resulting flood of pictures taken, well, maybe they ought to take her word about seeing little green fish-children next time.)


	6. PSA: Don't go swimming where there are rip currents.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The green fish-child makes another appearance. Smut has been discarded for plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you to everyone to everyone who left comments. Comments are great. You're all great. <3
> 
> (I'll be doing an original fic for NaNoWriMo, and will probably be putting it on AO3. So if you're interested, subscribe and get notified. I will probably come back to this fic whenever/ifever I get stalled, too.)

After the kerfluffle with the mysterious aquatic child, Darcy put on her clothes in the walk-in closet and refused to lay back down until Bucky found out how to turn up the opacity of the windows and completely obscure the amazing view.

Then Bucky decided he was going to put his five o’clock shadow to good use by giving her an epic case of beard burn on her thighs to “help her relax” while Wade crawled up behind him, caressing and nipping at her leg propped on Bucky’s shoulder while he rubbed and pulled at Bucky’s erection with his other hand. (Nothing like a man who could multi-task.)

This time, after the panting slowed into even breathing and body fluids were only mildly tacky on their skin, Darcy and Wade were tired enough to slide into an undisturbed sleep. 

\---..---

The next day, Bucky and Wade decided to go on a hike around their chosen tropical island. Darcy slathered herself up with sunscreen and laid out on the nearby private beach to tan, fully aware of her physical limitations and completely comfortable with the idea of letting them get all sweaty and bitten by bugs while she relaxed in the sun.

On the other hand, she hadn’t anticipated that they would take forever and a day to traipse around enjoying the flora and fauna (and each other).

Okay. That wasn’t a bad mental image at all. Darcy hid her blush behind her book, even though no one was around to witness it. No, she smiled to herself, enjoying the thought of the two of them getting hot and heavy up against a tree… Or one of those sparkling clear pools that always conveniently showed up when people were trapped on deserted islands… Wade muttering barely tangential references in between worshipping Bucky with that maniac mouth. Bucky’s small smirk as he traced Wade’s ever-changing scars.

Desire curled low in her belly and settled between her thighs. Darcy groaned and fanned her suddenly flushed face with the book, its lurid plot forgotten in favor of the movie playing out in her head. The combination of her fantasies and the tropical heat soon had her sweating uncomfortably. The soothing rush of the surf began to call to her and she set her book aside in favor of a short swim through the pristine waters.

And that’s when Darcy experienced her very first rip tide.

She had been playing in the water for a while before she noticed that she was significantly further from shore than the last time she checked. Even worse, the water was pulling against her as she tried to swim back, turning her limbs into lead weights far sooner than she would have thought possible. Before she knew it, the waves were starting to cover her head and she was struggling to break the surface long enough to draw another breath.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. All that training for evading kidnappers and wilderness survival, and I’m going to go out like this?

She couldn’t break surface in time to avoid the next wave and water rushed down her nose and throat. She coughed, trying to expel the fluid, but it seemed like every breath drew even more down into her lungs. Down, she sank, even further below the surface of the water, until her exhausted efforts were no longer able to gain access to that sweet, sweet oxygen.

As her vision started to gray out and fade to black, her fuzzy mind caught a glimpse of a familiar green shape darting through the water.

\---..---

Breathing salt water was a fairly unpleasant experience. Throwing it up was not quite worse, but close.

Darcy coughed up the contents of her lungs and stomach onto the fine white sand beside her, then flopped onto her back, gasping for breath. After many, many, many minutes passed and it no longer hurt (quite as much) to breathe, she uttered a long, wordless groan and feebly attempted to sit up.

Before she could rise so much as an inch, a small, sleight weight flung themselves over her, clutching tightly and babbling in an unfamiliar language. Light though the weight was, she was weak enough that it still pushed her back to the ground. Darcy whined as her head hit the packed sand, struggling against the slender arms that wrapped around her torso like steel bands. 

She opened her eyes for the first time, blinking against the harsh sunlight until the dark shape in front of her came into focus. The blurry shape soon transformed into a vaguely familiar sight.

Large eyes, larger than a human child’s, seemingly pitch black until she noticed the vague hints of white sclera in the corners. Green skin, scaled and iridescent now that it was in the sunlight. Fins curled where ears would be. And yet, the face was still rounded with baby fat, and expression wasn’t alien or strange at all. The little child’s gaze met hers for a solid minute, then their little face screwed up and their mouth opened wider than any human child’s and an ear-piercing wail cut through the air. Without even realizing it, Darcy wrapped her arms around the small child clinging to her.

“Ssssh,” she murmured, doing her best to comfort the child in her arms. The child that had, as far as she could tell, saved her life. “I’m okay, all right? You did a good job. You did a freaking awesome job.” This time she was able to push herself into a sitting position. She rearranged them so that she could more comfortably cuddle and rock the child wailing in her arms. Her voice was hoarse from the coughing and the vomiting, but she still continued to croon in an attempt to comfort the distraught child. “Thank you so much. You are the bomb.” 

They continued in this manner for a while, the child crying and clinging to Darcy while she kept up a running monologue and soothing touches to calm the both of them down. Eventually, emotional exhaustion got the better of them both and they fell asleep on the clean white sands of the beach.


	7. Turns out you shouldn't take a 2-3 hour nap in the sun on a tropical island.  Poor aquatic child who has never experienced a sunburn before :(

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot comes together. Darcy is a good babysitter. The mysterious kiddo gets a name. Bucky and Wade.... don't really do much here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter in this fic so far? Man, I am so out of writing shape for NaNo.
> 
> (Eta: deleted a bit that was OOC..)

_While Darcy was confirming that she could not, in fact, breathe water…_

A few miles into their hike, Wade had shifted from a confident swagger to a stealthy creep. Bucky followed suit, the two mercenaries passing through just as quickly as before but without the previous cacophony of rustling leaves and broken twigs. They traveled for a few more miles like this before Wade halted, seeking cover behind a large tree and motioning for Bucky to do the same.

Bucky peered around the edge of the tree. They were on a ridge overlooking a small valley that had been cleared of any conveniently obscuring underbrush. Some sort of bunker was installed in the middle of the valley, nearly invisible from overhead surveillance thanks to the layer of sod covering the area. 

“That’s the handoff point,” Wade said quietly, pointing at the bunker. “My plan was basically to bamf in, throw some grenades and bullets around, snatch the cargo and bamf out. The client will be waiting on an island a few miles away to pick it up. See? Simple.”

“Every time you say that, it just makes it worse and worse,” Bucky grumbled. “Who’s involved in the handoff? Do you know what kind of capabilities or firepower either party has? How are you going to get to this other island? Does your teleporter have that range? What if your teleporter interferes with the whatever this thing is the way it messes with my arm?” 

With each question, Wade’s shoulders hunched even closer to his ears until at the end he looked like a constipated turtle. “I was going to play it by ear. It usually works for me.”

Bucky shook his head, a wry grin on his face. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Gotta leave room for some improvisation in the field.” He turned his gaze back to the grass-covered bunker and his grin faded. “We’re running in blind, and that could end very, very badly for us.”

“Don’t worry, smoochie-poo.” Wade clasped his hands under his chin and fluttered his eyelashes as he made kissy noises. “I won’t just take one bullet for you, I’ll take them all!”

“Promises, promises,” Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes. “You hang out here for a while. I’m going to look around. Back in two shakes.” 

Wade nodded and settled in to a more comfortable position as Bucky disappeared into the trees.

\---..---

Her skin was on fire. Darcy opened her eyes, squinting into the afternoon sun. The child was curled up with her on the beach, her green skin closer to a mottled brown. Meanwhile, Darcy’s pale skin had turned lobster red all along her right side. Darcy sighed out a curse, then coughed as her recently saltwater-abraded throat reminded her of her recent trials. 

“Sunburnt and scratchy vomit throat, hooray. It’s like the worst spring break ever.” The child in her arms stirred, whining piteously as they started to become aware of their own sunburnt state. “Come on, kiddo.” Darcy awkwardly crawl/scooted to her beach umbrella, digging through her beach bag until she uncovered a bottle of aloe gel. “I figured this might happen eventually, I just didn’t expect it to happen on the second day of my vacation.”

Darcy smeared a thick layer of the gel on the kiddo; their face and arm seemed to have gotten the worst of it, with a small burned area on their lower leg. 

She was just now noticing the child’s outfit of a teal Little Mermaid t-shirt and white shorts with little pink hearts. Overall, they looked about the same as a human child about 5 or 6 years old (but for green scaly skin and finned ears/fingers/toes). From Darcy’s limited experience, they seemed to have about the same maturity level, poking at the thick layer of goop on their arm and wincing at the pain of the burnt skin underneath.

“Yeah, you probably don’t get sunburns too often, do ya kiddo?” Darcy slathered the gel on her own burns, then pulled out a couple of water bottles. They watched her open hers with wide black eyes before copying her movements. “No lie, the next couple of days are going to suck.” The water wasn’t cold any longer, but it still soothed her raw throat. 

The child watched her drink from the plastic bottle. She didn’t stop until it was mostly empty, pulling back with a raw sigh. They sniffed at their open container before dumping the entire thing over her head, rows of sharp and pointed white teeth grinning at Darcy through the water running down their face.

Darcy blinked, then laughed as she shook her head. “Yeah, you probably need to rehydrate in a different way. Are you Atlantean? You don’t look like any of the pictures of Atlanteans I’ve seen.”

They shook their head at the word ‘Atlantean’ and babbled something. Then paused, a small frown on their face. They spoke again, slower and louder, their frown growing deeper the longer they spoke. Another string of words, this one quicker and clearly frustrated as their face started to flush a darker green.

“Woah, woah, hey, calm down.” Darcy patted the air between them, trying to project soothing vibes at was clearly signs of an imminent temper tantrum. “You don’t speak my language and I definitely don’t speak yours, so we’re going to have to Tarzan and Jane this one for a bit.” She pointed to herself. “Darcy.” Then she pointed to the kiddo, who huffed out a shuddery breath.

“Ssshhha-sshhha.” They replied, pointing first at themselves with a forest green claw, then Darcy. “’Darsshhee,” 

(Yeah, she could see how some sounds wouldn’t be easy to say with their shark-like teeth. )

“Sha-sha?” She asked and was met with an enthusiastic nod. “Nice to meet you, Sha-sha. Now, I bet there’s someone out there that is really worried about you and is looking for you.” At this point Darcy was mostly talking to herself, but Sha-sha seemed to be following along, their large black eyes focused on Darcy’s face. “So let’s just chill out here for a bit and wait for them. Hopefully they think to check the beaches, otherwise it’ll be a loooong wait.”

Sha-sha stared blankly. 

Darcy sighed. “In the meantime you could probably use a snack. I think I remembered to pack some crackers and cheese in here,” she muttered to herself, reaching back to her bag.

Sha-sha’s eyes lit up and a wide grin split their face. “Cheesh!” They shouted eagerly and clapping their hands as they bounced eagerly. “Cheesh, cheesh, cheesh!” 

(Weird. You wouldn’t think fish-people would have ready access to cheese in their diet.)

Or maybe it was just a case of a similar sound with different meanings. Whatever Sha-sha had thought cheese was, it apparently wasn’t the small squares of dairy product Darcy was showing her. Their brow furrowed as they sank back down onto the beach towel, face pulled into a small frown. “Cheesh?”

“I dunno, kiddo. You can have some if you want.” Darcy offered a piece of cheese piled on a cracker to her new pal. They took it from her and sniffed at it, then darted their tongue out to lick at the cheese. This was followed by a small bite, then an indifferent shrug.

“Well that was clearly a resounding ‘meh.’” Darcy laughed, fixing some for herself as well. “Probably for the best, I didn’t bring that much. I hope your folks come soon.”

Sha-sha’s guardians came much sooner than Darcy anticipated, and were the complete opposite of what she was expecting (though maybe the Ariel shirt should have been a clue).

It was the couple from the lobby, the man with the terrible toupee and the rude red-headed woman who had been bragging about how easy babysitting was. Clearly it wasn’t that easy, since Sha-sha had been missing for who knows how long before meeting Darcy and at least two hours after that. The man with the dead mammal camping on his head pointed at them and the couple broke out into a trot across the sands.

“Thank you for finding her,” the red-headed woman sang out in a high-pitched saccharine sweet voice, reaching out to Sha-sha. The child didn’t shy away from the other woman, but they didn’t seem too eager to see either one of the newcomers. They let themselves be pulled into the other woman’s arms, but their large eyes remained fixed on Darcy.

(Hinky. The situation was starting to set off her hinky alarms.) “Yeah, no problem. Sha-sha’s been a real sweetheart.”

The two exchanged startled glances. “Sha-sha? You spoke with her?” The man said, his tone forcibly casual. Something changed in the way he held himself though, something that was way too familiar after spending time with super secret spy assassin-types. 

A cold rush of fear washed down her spine but she did her best not to tense up or show how loud the alarm bells in her head were ringing. “Just our names. Is her name Sha-sha? She could have been saying anything for all I know.”

“Sure,” the red-head nodded, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she stared at Darcy. “That’s our Sha-sha all right. Sorry if she bothered you.”

Darcy’s mind whirled as she tried to assess the situation. “She was no trouble at all.” They wanted to keep Sha-sha hidden which meant if Darcy didn’t keep her cool she was done for. Why weren’t Bucky and Wade back yet? “But then, my family does call me the Kid Whisperer. I guess it goes for any species.”

As soon as she mentioned the species thing, she realized she was doomed. There had never been a possibility of them letting her go and potentially flap her lips about seeing an obviously non-human child if they were so paranoid about keeping Sha-sha out of sight.

The couple’s faces curled with identical cruel grins. 

“Sha-sha,” the red-head crooned in that high-pitched tone that grated on Darcy’s nerves. “You made a friend!” She turned that cruel grin to the woman sitting on the ground below her. “Let’s show you what happens when you make friends.”

“Always a shame having to waste a body like that,” the man said as he reached behind him with one hand.

Darcy narrowed her eyes and snarled at him. “Gross, dude.”

“DARCY!”

They all turned as one to look at Bucky and Wade as they emerged from the forest, Bucky calmly aiming a pistol at the man while Wade stared at the woman, body tense with rage. The red-head cooed again, but this time it wasn’t that sickly-sweet coo from before. This sound was a mixture of fondness and complete and utter _hatred._ “Deadpool,” she purred. “It’s been ages.”


	8. Action Scene!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a tussle. Neither party is happy with the outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if Deadpool is an evil fairy godmother and Darcy is Puss in Boots, what is Bucky and why? I am debating making this into a trilogy and would be interested in hearing your opinion.

“Mary,” Wade growled, the skin around his knuckles pinched white with the force of his clenched fists. “If you hurt one hair on her head, this shit is going to straight to roaring rampage. Do not pass GO, do not collect $100.” 

Bucky wanted to look over to Wade but he was afraid to move his eyes from the strange man standing over Darcy. The woman seemed to have some issue with Wade, but she was holding a child (a green fish child, his brain helpfully pointed out) while the other man was holding a gun. One of the two was clearly more of a threat than the other.

“Who’s that,” the man in the loud Hawaiian shirt asked Mary, jerking his chin at Wade while he kept up the staring contest with Bucky. (They both had cold, empty stares that reminded Bucky of men who had been stripped of empathy even before war tore their companions apart.) “Ex-boyfriend?”

“Doesn’t he just wish?” She blew a kiss at Wade, smirking when he growled. “Introductions later, Bullseye. Right now we have more pressing matt-AUGH!”

While Mary and her partner’s attentions had been redirected to the more obvious threat of Bucky and Wade, Darcy took the opportunity to grab her taser from her beach bag and slam it into the gross dude’s back. As he collapsed to the sand in a twitching, screaming mess, she followed him down. Not to provide any assistance (far from it) but to grab a handful of fine white sand and throw it in the bitch’s face.

Bucky and Wade broke out into a sprint, racing each other to the shore where Darcy struggled with Mary for possession of a now screaming Sha-sha. The child clung to Darcy while Mary pulled at their legs, their screams growing louder and higher in pitch. 

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Kid.” Mary grunted, each word punctuated with a tug that threatened Darcy’s hold on the child.

“Fuck off!” Darcy yelled in response, aiming a kick that glanced off the other woman’s thigh.

Suddenly, a scarred hand wrapped around Mary’s throat and gripped tightly. Mary released Sha-Sha, resulting in Darcy falling backwards onto her ass in the soft sand, the kiddo wrapped safely in her arms. Mary rolled her eyes to the side, trying to make eye contact with Wade, whose lips were pulled back from his teeth in a feral grimace. Sha-sha was babbling in her native language and clinging to Darcy. 

Bucky briefly (very briefly) considered persuading Wade to be easy on the red-head. Instead he took a knee next to Darcy, hands hovering over her but not quite making contact. “You okay, sweetheart?”

(Wasn’t that the sixty-four thousand dollar question?) Darcy swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “can you just… Can you hold Sha-sha for a second and then we can get out of here.”

He accepted the slight weight of the green child, meeting the large black eyes that were in the silent judging stare that all children seemed to have when meeting strangers.

They twisted around in his arms to look back at Darcy, deep wrinkles furrowing their brow. “Darshee?”

“It’s okay, Sha-sha.” Darcy waved at the kiddo, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s Bucky. He’s okay.”

She halted abruptly mid-rise, eyes going wide until the sclera shone clearly around her dark brown eyes. Bullseye rose behind her like a monster from the deep, a cruel smirk twisting his face. He drew them both into a standing position, tsking and shaking his head as he settled his gun against Darcy’s temple.

“The kid. Or you get to see if her insides are as pretty as her outsides.” Her breath caught and stuttered in her throat when he added “spoiler alert: they usually aren’t. Let Typhoid Mary and the kid go.”

Wade’s grip on the woman’s throat relaxed enough to let her draw in a harsh breath, but he didn’t release his captive. “See, I don’t think that’s a good idea. A good idea would be the two of you fucking off somewhere I never have to see you again whilst the four of us get ice cream. And I get to use the word ‘whilst’ some more. Because it’s a fun word, though irrelevant to our current situation.”

She could see Wade and Bucky both trying to think of a way to turn the situation in their favor, but she was pretty sure that Wade’s teleporter wasn’t quicker than a bullet. Making eye contact with Bucky, she flicked her gaze to Sha-sha, then Wade.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he gave a small, barely noticeable shake of his head.

(Ugh. Be practical for once, gods-dammit.) Darcy glanced at Wade, then when she had his attention, jerked her head slightly to Bucky and Sha-sha, wincing when the barrel of Bullseye’s gun dug into the soft tissue at her temple. 

Wade blinked once, twice, then suddenly Mary was flying across the shore, landing in the surf with a huge splash. As Bullseye’s focus (and therefore Darcy’s when the barrel pushed her head in the corresponding direction) followed his partner, Wade grabbed Bucky and pushed at the ever-present device on his wrist.

“Wade? Wade, NO!” Darcy heard Bucky cry out before the three of them shimmered out of existence, then a fist grabbed the hair at the back of her head and yanked sharply, drawing out a yelp of pain as Bullseye used the fist to draw her backwards until her spine was bent nearly in half.

“What the fuck was that?!” Bullseye shouted, spittle landing on Darcy’s face.

She grimaced and wiped it away with the back of her hand, her feet shuffling through the sand in a vain attempt to find balance. “That was a ‘fuck you, you’re not taking an innocent kid’ is what that was,” she retorted, glaring up at the bright blue sky. 

A normally idyllic vision was ruined by the sudden appearance of Mary, half of whose face was now white as bone, though both halves were glaring at her with equal amounts of ire, vibrant red hair plastered to her skin and dripping onto Darcy’s face. “Where did they take her?”

(Oh gods. They were going to kill her if she didn’t play this right.) A never-ending chorus of “fuckfuckfuck” echoed through her head as she smirked at Mary with false bravado. “This magical place called ‘Nunya.’ As in, ‘Nunya Business.’”

A shiver wracked her from head to toe as she felt the disturbing sensation of something literally digging into her mind, into her thoughts. (Shit, mutant! Ah jeez, this is above my pay grade. Ummm…. Ummm…) Desperately seeking an alternate topic to focus her thoughts on, she finally settled on: (Purple monkey dishwasher! Purple monkey dishwasher!)

Mary’s face disappeared from her view. “Someone is coming. Let’s take her back to the room so I can-“ a pause and Darcy was very, very glad she couldn’t see Mary’s expression- “properly focus on the task ahead.” 

(Though in her head she pictured the creepy scene from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas when his smile curled up at the thought of the evils he could perpetrate on Whoville.)

(She wasn’t far off.)

Mary headed off into the nearby woods and Bullseye used his grip on her hair to force Darcy to follow.


	9. Language barriers are tough.  They're even tougher when one party is used to a very different environment (for example, several hundred meters under the surface and no sunlight)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does communication look like when you're so far down under the surface that sunlight no longer is a factor? 
> 
> Darcy puts together some parts of the puzzle.

They landed in the living area of the suite, startling a school of fish swimming outside the window. The fish disappeared in a flash of silver, but neither man was in the mood to appreciate the sight.

Once they were on solid ground, Bucky wrapped a fist in the collar of Wade’s shirt, pulling him closer until they were nose to nose. “What the _hell_ were you thinking?” He shook the other man roughly and the mechanics of his metal arm whined in protest. The child in his other arm reacted to the rise in tension by curling up, their shoulders hunching to meet their ears.

Brown eyes met his in a defiant glare. “You think that I wanted this? That I wanted to leave her with those two psychopaths?” Wade tried to pull away but only succeeded in stretching out the collar of his shirt as Bucky refused (or was unable to) release his grip. 

“We could have figured something out,” Bucky’s voice rose to a shout. 

“ _We didn’t have time!_ ” Wade shouted back.

The little one uttered a high-pitched shriek and squirmed free of Bucky’s grip like an eel, skittering away from them and disappearing into the bedroom. They both froze; Bucky took in a long breath and released it slowly, forcing himself to calm down. Wade’s breath puffed against his face, fast and sharp gusts still teeming with frustration. He wrapped his free hand around the base of Wade’s skull, pulling gently until their foreheads touched. Wade closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I want to go back for her.” Wade covered the metal hand wrapped in his shirt, resting his other hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky pulled Wade into a proper hug, his bionic arm squished between them thanks to the teleportation frequencies once again completely mucking up his electronics. “If they’re smart, they’re already gone.”

Wade laughed ruefully, wrapping his arms around his lover and leaning into him. “They may have the moral values of a dead armadillo baking in the Texas sun, but they are unfortunately a pair of devious bastards.”

A small ray of hope started to glimmer through the direness of the situation. “Then they probably won’t risk hurting Darcy if there’s a chance to trade her for the kid?”

“That’s… Pretty likely,” Wade said hesitantly. “Do you think the kid will be able to lead us back to them?” 

Bucky glanced back toward the bedroom. “There’s a fair chance, if we can get her to talk to us.” He pulled back far enough meet Wade’s gaze. “Of the two of us, which one do you think is least likely to scare the crap out of her?”

“Well,” Wade chuckled and rubbed a hand over his bare scalp, “I think I have the closest physical resemblance.” 

Bucky huffed a startled laugh, shaking his head. “All right, go see if you can calm the kid down. I’m going to order a shit-ton of food from room service and see if we can bribe our way into her good graces the time-honored way; sugar, sugar, and more sugar.”

Wade pulled Bucky in for a quick kiss, then pulled away and headed for the bedroom. He knocked softly on the slightly ajar door before pushing it open. “Hey, kid? I’m coming in now, all right?” At first glance the room looked empty, but a slight flutter of the bed skirt revealed the most likely hiding spot.

“All right, cool beans.” Wade kept up a running monologue (ha! Like that was such a trial for him) as he eased toward the bed and crouched down until he was laying down flat on the floor. “Hi there, short-stack.” He could just barely make out a small dark bundle huddled against the wall. “I bet you’re pretty scared, right? Believe me, you got a right to be, those two folks you were with are some pretty scary fu….furriers. You’re one of Darcy’s friends, right? She’s got a lot of friends.” 

During most of his ramblings, the small dark lump had remained quiet, however once he mentioned Darcy’s name, their eyes shot toward him, glowing yellow in the dim light like a cat’s. “Okay, so that’s a thing. Let’s see… You like Darcy, which makes sense, she’s a total sweetheart. Believe it or not, I’m one of Darcy’s friends too. So is that gloomy Gus in the other room, the one that Darcy handed you off to.”

The more he name-dropped Darcy, the more the kid seemed to relax. Well that was easy to work with, it certainly wasn’t a hardship to talk about her. “Yeah, I know Darcy. I know the other two you were with, too. They’re bad news, she was real smart to get you away from them.”

“Darshee,” the kid croaked, the harsh utterance revealing the fact that they’d clearly been crying. (Ah jeez, right in the feels, this one.) The lantern eyes blinked once, twice, then the kid scooted slightly closer. They spoke, a high-pitched warbling sound that could have been language, their webbed hands making wide gestures in the cramped space under the bed. Wade caught Darcy’s name repeated a few more times, each more emphatic than the last as the kid inched closer.

“Does that mean you’re worried about her? That makes three of us.” He slowly stretched out a hand to the kid, waiting for them to make the first move. “But we’re going to get Darcy back, I swear.”

After a heartbeat of a moment, the kid reached out and grabbed Wade’s hand, the small fingers wrapped around his in a tight grip.

\---..---

As Bullseye dragged her along the narrow forest path, Darcy swore that before she was kidnapped by supervillains again she was shaving her head. She tripped on a tree root and gasped in pain as her captor pulled her up by his grip on her hair.

“Yeah,” she griped, glaring at the red-headed woman’s back, “because this kind of treatment is really going to encourage me to cooperate with you.”

Mary glanced over her shoulder at Darcy, the bone-white half of her face drawn up in a nasty smirk. “Oh honey. We both know you would never willingly cooperate with us. I don’t know what any of you see in that wrinkled toad skin of a man.” Darcy lunged at Mary, only to be brought short by the hand wrapped in her curls. “But for some reason, it always inspires a fierce loyalty. Each and every one of you is too smart to be fooled and too dumb to play along. And so here we all are.”

‘Here’ ended up being a bunker at the top of a steep hike, a distance long enough to have Darcy gasping for breath, while Mary and Bullseye were annoyingly unaffected. The roof of the bunker was covered with a thick layer of sod, so the building blended into the local landscape and was not easily visible unless one knew to look for it. A thick iron door was built into the hillside, protected with a keypad. Darcy tried to get a glimpse of the code as Typhoid Mary entered it, but Bullseye forced her to look in the opposite direction. Inside the bunker was austere, decorated in concrete and iron pipes. They passed a few doors in a long hallway before Darcy was shoved into a room and the door slammed behind her.

Darcy took in the small room and cursed under her breath, a long stream of imaginative obscenities. A small bed was crammed in the corner, the sheets and blankets decorated with Finding Nemo characters. An open suitcase filled with child’s clothes lay shoved under the bed. Some toys were scattered around the room, but they were toys for toddlers or tweens, nothing that would provide any kind of intellectual stimulation for someone who was probably at the intellectual level of a 5-7 year old. Stickers of aquatic life provided the only hint of color on a concrete wall. A toilet and sink were separated from the rest of the room with a cheap folding screen. 

It was a prison cell. Built for a child.

Darcy slowly sat down on the bed, mind whirling as she put the pieces together. She had first seen Sha-sha swimming outside of their hotel room. A day later, they rescued Darcy from drowning. Sha-sha’s caretakers (to use the term loosely) took Darcy to the same room where Sha-sha was being kept. There was about two weeks' worth of clothes in the suitcase, so the kiddo had been here or was expected to stay here for at least that long. 

Any lingering doubts about getting Sha-sha away from the Hinky Duo was quickly disappearing. 

But Sha-sha had been calmer than could be expected for a small child taken away from their family. It was clear from Sha-sha’s ambivalent reaction that they barely tolerated their two kidnappers, but were still comfortable enough to accept them as a potential babysitter. Someone else was involved, someone the kiddo trusted. That meant… Typhoid Mary and Bullseye were just muscle for someone else. Whoever they were, _they_ were the person that she needed to talk to. Whoever they were, she needed to convince them that she was more useful alive as a bargaining token. 


	10. Spoiler Alert: Darcy was captured by the villains.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is interrogated. Despite her efforts, vital information is uncovered. Bullseye is a fan of Richard Cornell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got stuck in my regular NaNo work. I don't like it for many reasons, and this is more fun to write. So here's an update!

Darcy picked up the Nintendo DS and started it up while she waited for the head honcho to show up. “Oh, Pokemon Moon, nice!” She spoke aloud on the off chance the room was being monitored. (And also because she hadn’t yet gotten a chance to play the newest generation. Might as well take advantage of the circumstances, right?)

After a significant period of time, the door to her newest abode opened without warning, slamming into the wall with a hard clang. Three people stood in the now open entryway. Darcy glanced at the clock on the handheld console, which told her that quite a few hours had passed since she'd been thrown in here, then set it down on the bed next to her as she looked over her visitors.

The one in front was a female... Atlantean? Maybe? Darcy wasn't exactly up on her knowledge of aquatic dwellers, beyond the occasional photo of Namor or Namorita. The probably Atlantean woman had skin of a similar texture to Sha-sha, but paler, like a preying mantis. She didn't have the same large black eyes, hers were more human-looking, and a striking green that was almost neon. Dark green hair framed her face and fell down to her shoulders in soft waves, contrasting sharply with the vibrant red blouse and bloody crimson leggings. Her taste in jewelry apparently leaned to large, ostentatious gold pieces, with thick gold plates that weighed down her earlobes and thick bangles dangling on her wrists.

Bullseye and Typhoid Mary stood behind the newcomer. As they entered, Bullseye took position by the door, one hand on the gun in his waistband, the other watching his companion with a clearly bored expression on his face. Half of Typhoid Mary's face was still that bleached bone-white, but she had changed into an outfit that was mostly skin with some bits of leather, fishnet, shoulder spikes that would make the 80s jealous, and pretty effectively communicated her tendency to violence.

Darcy turned her attention back to the green woman only to find those fluorescent green eyes assessing her in the same manner. She straightened her shoulders slightly and stuck out her chin, determined not to be intimidated by someone

"Typhoid Mary has informed me that you kidnapped my ward," the woman said, frowning down at her.

She looked around at the concrete room, then back to the green woman and raised her eyebrows. _Yeah, this place practically screams 'I care about its resident!'_ , she thought, but kept her mouth shut about the spartan living conditions. "She looked lost. I was trying to help her out."

"I see." The woman pursed her lips, thoughtfully tapping on them with one delicate finger. "And that would be why you chose to give her to your companions rather than her caretakers?"

Darcy snorted. "Maybe next time don't hire your babysitters from Villainous Lackeys dot com." She waved a hand at the two in question. "These two look more likely to eat babies than look after them. I just wanted to protect the kid." She was trying hard not to outright lie. Typhoid Mary had some level of psionic powers and Darcy didn't know if human lie detector was one of them. And who knew what kind of powers the green woman had. But she seemed to want Sha-sha to be safe (or at least she wanted Darcy to think so).

The green woman met Darcy's earnest gaze for a moment, then glanced over at said villainous lackeys before returning her attention to Darcy. "Be that as it may. my beloved _hiyas_ is in danger and I worry for their safety--especially with strangers. So I must have them back immediately. No matter what it takes." The green woman stepped back and gestured Typhoid Mary forward. "Do it."

Typhoid Mary stepped forward and Darcy instinctively ducked away from her outstretched hand. Quick as a snake striking, the vicious mercenary grabbed a handful of her captive's thick curly hair and pulled it towards her, _hard_. Darcy failed to stifle her cry of pain as she was jerked forward by the fist buried in her hair. The sound made Typhoid Mary's lips curl up in a sadistic grin. Then her other hand was on Darcy's forehead, the nails digging into her scalp and the soft open spots of her temples. Darcy felt that digging sensation in her brain again, like Typhoid Mary's fingernails were piercing skin and bone to burrow in the grey meat underneath.

She cried out again, struggling against the hands gripping her head. The pain grew, like pods were being injected deep into her brain tissue. Typhoid Mary leaned in close, until their noses were almost touching and all she could see were brown eyes staring intently into hers. Close enough so that she could see the striations of darker brown, almost black and the flecks of tannish gold.

"Tell me where the child is," the mercenary commanded. Her voice echoed in Darcy's skull, rebounding and growing everytime they crossed one of those little pods. Her mouth opened and she was speaking before she realized the words were coming out of her mouth. "Wade took them-" her teeth clacked shut before she could elaborate further as the compulsion lost strength once the question had been addressed.

That's when Darcy realized opposition to Typhoid Mary's psionic powers was possible. When she spoke, she wasn't giving absolute orders that Darcy had to follow. She making suggestions; suggestions that the... things in her head strongly encouraged her to answer. But once she gave an answer, the compulsion to speak fell sharply, to a point where it was more easy for Darcy to resist.

Typhoid Mary growled in frustration and squeezed the hand on Darcy's forehead, digging the pods in even deeper, fire lacing through her neurons along the path they had taken. "Where did he take the child?"

"I don't know." True enough, Darcy didn't know for certain where they were, even if she could make a reasonable guess. The psionic pushed on the pods again, pushing more power into them so they grew fatter, until her brain felt like it would burst out of her skull. The hard brown gaze in front of her grew blurry as pain brought tears to her eyes. She gritted her teeth and tried to breathe through it, focusing on a point in the middle of the other woman's forehead.

"Guess." Typhoid Mary's voice was low and harsh as the pods started to blossom, buds of pain and fire bursting in Darcy's skull.

Darcy cried out again and the tears fell freely as she stopped trying to push the pain away and focused on waiting it out. "Somewhere safe!" She forced out through gritted teeth, trying to answer the compulsion with another half-truth. It didn't work, and the psychic buds grew bigger, petals spreading like her pain was the sun. "Where Sha-sha and I first met." An image of the penthouse suite was clear in her mind, clear enough that if she looked away from the blurred image of Typhoid Mary, she was sure she would be back in the luxurious accommodations and free from the dangerous circumstances she was currently in.

It was close enough to the truth to allow the budding psychic compulsions to retreat into their pods. Darcy inhaled a sharp breath as the pain faded, blinking away the tears to face her tormentor again.

Typhoid Mary broke their staring contest to glance at the green woman. The woman stepped closer, tapping on her cheek thoughtfully as she stared at Darcy with that neon green gaze. "So you've met my beloved _hiyas_ before. Where did you see them?"

"My bathroom," Darcy struggled to say as the pods started to bloom again.

The green woman shook her head and the budding pain flowers grew. "Your bathroom at home?" Shit. The woman was asking yes or no questions that wouldn't let Darcy prevaricate. Her head shook in Typhoid Mary's tight grip. "Your bathroom here?" She resisted the urge as long as she could, but eventually the pain was too much, blooming into petals that cut into her mind until she was nodding yes as hard as she could, until she was ripping her own hair out thanks to the tight grip on the back of her head.

"There," the green woman's voice was thick with satisfaction as she and Typhoid Mary stepped away from Darcy. "Was that so hard, dear?"

The sudden lack of support, as well as the emotional drain from trying to resist the compulsions had Darcy sinking down until she was lying on the small cot.

Typhoid Mary brushed her hands together, pulling off lingering strands of Darcy's hair. "She's in the same hotel we were at while we were waiting for you to show up. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out what room she was staying in."

The green woman nodded in agreement. "You and Bullseye will go and find my hiyas and bring them back. Kill her companions if you have to. Or if you wish to. I do not care about the fate of top-dwellers."

Typhoid Mary shrugged and pulled a small hand-held device out of a pocket that by all rights should not have contained anything based on the way her clothes clung to her body. "Or I could do this," she aimed the device at Darcy and punched a few buttons. The psionic's image shifted and wavered, like Darcy was looking at her through heat waves over concrete. Then, suddenly, there was a mirror image of her, right down to the sunburned skin and frizzy curls.

Fear shot through Darcy, a wave of ice cold water rushing down her spine as she attempted to push herself off the bed, lunging at her mirror image only to fall to her knees, reaching out to her doppelganger. The other her laughed, a cruel and harsh laugh that didn't belong on her face.

"We'll meet them and I will convince them to hand over the child to you. Then I take care of them both when they least expect it."

The green woman considered Typhoid Mary's proposal for a few moments then nodded. Inside her chest, Darcy's heart froze and her breath stuttered in her lungs. "Very well. You will tell them that the hiyas rightfully belongs with me." The green woman turned to Bullseye (who, honestly, Darcy had forgotten he was even in the room. To be fair she'd just suffered a psychic assault, so she couldn't be expected to keep track of everything that was going on). "Once I give you word that everything is taken care of, you will take care of this meddling top dweller."

"Finally," Bullseye smirked, "this assignment is starting to get interesting."

"No games," the green woman ordered harshly, slicing her hand through the air. "Just do as I say and kill her."

Bullseye and the green woman locked eyes, glaring at each other as they willed the other into submission. After a long moment, Bullseye was the first to look away, voicing his displeasure with a vague grunt.

Pleased with her victory, the green woman beckoned pseudo-Darcy to follow her as she regally swept from the room. The fake Darcy shot a victorious smirk at the real Darcy, who was slumped on the floor in despair, before leaving the cell. She pulled the door closed behind her, and the clang of metal echoed in the small space as Bullseye shot Darcy a sadistic grin.

"Guess what, love." He strode towards her, crouching down on his heels and leaning forward until he was just as much in her personal space as Typhoid Mary had been earlier. She swallowed hard and looked up to meet his eyes, shivering at the cold blue stare. "I lied." He laughed at her sharply in-drawn breath. "There's no fun in killing you like this. It's like using dynamite to catch fish in a barrel." He glanced down at her bare feet. "Hell, I'll even give you some sneakers. Then once Llyra gives me the word, I'll give you a ten second head start and we'll see how far you get." His smirk was hard and sharp like a knife. "You'll be lucky to last a minute, but it's better than wasting dynamite on a scared fish in a cramped pond."

Bullseye chuckled at her wide eyed stare and pushed himself to his feet. "You just think on that, then. Use the next little while to plan your moves. I'll be waiting." He stood and flicked his fingers at her in a lazy salute, then left the room, shutting the heavy metal door behind him.

Darcy buried her face in her hands, focusing on her breathing. First order of business was pushing the glaciers of fear away into a deep corner of her mind until she could think clearly.

It took a long time. Yet after a while she finally felt able to consider the fact that she was about to be involved in a live re-enactment of The Most Dangerous Game. She closed her eyes and tried to retrace the path that the goons had taken when bringing her here.

Ultimately it came down to two factors. One: as long as she went downhill, she would easily find her way out of the forest and back to civilization. Two: if she went downhill, she would be going exactly where Bullseye wanted her to go. If she wanted to escape, she would need to delay his pursuit as long as possible.

Filled with renewed energy now that she actually had a plan, Darcy dug through the assortment of children's toys and clothes, throwing them into the small luggage case that had previously contained only clothes. She was not going down without a fight, damn it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you for taking the time to read this, nd thank you all a jillionty times more for the comments and kudos and love. This wouldn't have gone past the first chapter without your encouragement and you are all filled with awesomesauce. <3


	11. All expenses paid also means unlimited room service.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Wade babysit while coming up with a tactical plan to rescue Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have kids, but a friend of mine has a 5 year old so I based Sha-sha's actions of what they would likely do.

When Wade emerged from the bedroom with a small green child in his arms, Bucky couldn't help the deep exhale of relief that came unbidden from him, a rush of air that caused Wade to raise a scarred eyebrow ridge of flesh. "Did you doubt my child whispering skills?"

Bucky shrugged, waving his hand vaguely in the air as he turned away to the corner of the suite where he had thrown his duffel bag of gear. "I figured you had more experience with children than me, considering any amount is greater than zero."

The child babbled and waved their hands in the air, gesturing wildly. The two adult men both shook their heads in confusion until the kid's stomach rumbled, a gurgling sound that echoed through the room. They clasped webbed hands to their stomach and blushed, the skin of their cheeks growing browner when added to the sunburn from earlier.

Wade flipped through the room service menu next to the phone, then after a brief conversation with the astonished person on the other side of the line, confirmed that yes he would like one of everything, thank you very much, and to add it to the room's bill. "Just bring it up as it's ready," he informed them, then handed the phone to the kid on his hip and pointed at the phone's cradle.

"Ha!" The kid uttered a victorious shout as they slammed the receiver on the panel, then grinned triumphantly at Wade.

"Good job!" Wade laughed, holding his hand up for a high-five, which the kid stared at for a long moment, then held their own hand up in mimicry of Wade's. The merc gently tapped their palms together, grinning when it started another round of underwater monologing and waving of hands.

Wade seemed to be experienced with handling children, and the thought was... unexpected. Bucky's knowledge of Wade-as-Deadpool's dossier was sketchy at best, but he didn't recall any siblings or children that would explain the ease in which he diverted the kid's attention to less stressful things while Bucky got busy arming himself from his stash of weaponry. Every so often a knock would sound at the door to their suite, and each time without prompting, the kid would run to hide in the kitchen area of the large room while Bucky or Wade answered the door, emerging only after the employee left.

Bucky was applying the black eye grease around his eyes when the kid left Wade's side and ran up to him, pointing at the charcoal black tin in his hands and chattering excitedly.

Wade sauntered up behind the kid, who was trying to pull themselves up onto one of the chairs.  He helped them onto the chair and they jumped onto the table where they proceeded to scurry across the polished surface and grab Bucky's tin of grease paint.  Before the trained, deadly assassins could react, the aquatic child proceeded to smear the black, greasy substance all over their eyes in a rough approximation of Bucky's own dramatic eye makeup.  Then Wade was pulling the tin away from the green child, laughing despite himself as he grabbed the proudly grinning child and swung them away from the table and further chicanery. 

"It's mini-Smoochie-poo!" The mercenary crowed, lifting the kid up onto his shoulders as he walked away from Bucky and the rest of his gear, trying to give the other man an opportunity to gear up without outside interference.  It was definitely successful as the kid in his arms babbled away, supporting especially emphatic statements with a wave of their hands in gestures that were probably meant to supplement whatever the kid was saying.  From time to time, he caught Darcy, or "Darshee" in the random assortment of sounds, and every time it was accompanied with a firm gesture aimed at either Wade or Bucky.

The next time he glanced at Bucky, it was to see a map of the island spread out over the table while Bucky was idly munching on whatever it is that has been brought in the latest room service delivery.  That seemed to be the catalyst that made their little ward realize that there was now a fantastic spread of food laid out over every open surface in the kitchen.  The kid squirmed in Wade's grip until he dropped them to the floor, upon which point they proceed to race to the kitchen and dig into...  The macaroni and cheese.  Well, Wade mused, watching as the kid grabbed the entire dish of pasta and shoveled piles into their mouth with an oversized spoon, that was not what he would have guessed to be the favorite of the small one. 

Wade and Bucky let their ward have first pick of food, but if the small one turned up their nose at the offering (which happened often, apparently this one was picky in their appetites), then the men eagerly devoured the food, the carefully crafted taste profiles almost completely lost on the way that the food disappeared as if they were inhaling it.  After a while, it became apparent that the kid's favorite meal was macaroni and cheese, and without outside intervention from Wade or Bucky, they would eat little else.  In fact, whenever they tried to suggest any other source of nourishment, the kid would growl at them and curl over their current dish of choice, the black greasepaint around their eyes turning them from large black orbs into a gaping void.

"Okay," Wade said after a set of sharp teeth had snapped at his fingers. "No touchy your food.  I get it.  Message received and everything."  He turned away from the spread of food covering every available surface on their living area, now mostly scraps thanks to the immense appetites of two genetically enhanced mercenaries and one small child given first pick of every conceivable food source. 

While the kid was busy devouring their meal, Wade was digging through his luggage and assembling his kit for attack on where-ever they were holding Darcy.  There was no skimping on studio money in this scene, since it was entirely fan-driven and words were much cheaper than precious seconds of CGI.  He settled the dufflebag full of ammo and guns on his shoulder with a firm determination, a cocky sway to his hips as he strode out of the bedroom.

...To find the small child in their care drawing on their one topographical map with a bright blue pen, creating sweeping arcs of ink and stick figures that presumably told some story that, quite frankly, Wade was completely uninterested in.  He did his best to hide his annoyance as he threw an arm around the kid's shoulders, offering generic praise to them even as he tried to figure if this would factor into their attempts to rescue Darcy. 

"Wade," Bucky reached out and traced the inked figures on the map with his fingertips, drawing Wade's attention to what he had failed to see before.  The green kid grinned, their large black eyes focused on Bucky as they babbled energetically, pointing at the stick figures on the map and webbed fingers forming themselves into unfamiliar shapes.

Wade and Bucky leaned in close over the map and examined the pictures their newest ward had drawn, on a spot that they found very familiar.  A spot that included a hill, and a bunker, and easy access to waters flowing to the sea.  The kid was drawing on the area where the map indicated the bunker would be, sketching in something that was probably Darcy, with the massive curly hair and exaggerated hourglass figure, and their current ward, with large black eyes and pointed ears.

“Well,” Bucky said after a pause, “that certainly makes things easier.”

“Good job!”  Wade wrapped the kid in a firm embrace and hugged them tightly, laughing when they pushed webbed hands into his face and squirmed out of his grip.  “I’m going to order ten more bowls of mac and cheese, you can eat until you burst!”

Bucky felt the tension in his shoulders relaxing along with Wade, until a stray thought had them tensing up again.  “Wade,” he said, low but urgent, “the psionic, the one that implants suggestions?  Can she make Darcy tell them where we are?”

Wade froze, the eyes of his mask widening in shock.  He turned back to the kid and scooped them into his arms once more, striding toward the door.  “Short answer, yes.  This place isn’t safe anymore.  We need to get out of here.”  The kid struggled a bit in his arms, then reached up and grabbed at the hem of Wade’s mask and pulled it upwards.  Wade pulled his chin up, moving the fabric out of their reach until they were in the elevator and headed downwards.  Then he allowed the kid to pull the mask up and over his head until they could see his scarred face.  The sight calmed them down significantly, and they patted a webbed hand on his cheek.

Bucky grinned at Wade’s slightly exasperated sigh.  “Looks like you’ve got a new fan.” 


	12. The most dangerous game (is not Parcheesi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy runs. Bullseye gives chase.

Darcy sat back on her heels and took stock of the pile of toys sitting in the little suitcase.  Whoever had bought the collection of cheap plastic entertainment didn't seem to have any idea of what was appropriate for a child of Sha-sha's apparent age (five or six-ish, assuming that their people aged at the same rate as humans).  The mystery source also had no regrets about giving loud, annoying toys that flashed and beeped and spun with little to no outside influence, making them excellent distractors and red herrings.  Add a couple of brightly colored stuffed knock-offs blatantly modeled on the fish from Finding Nemo, and a small NERF pistol, a wish and a prayer, and she was as ready as she would ever be.

Just in time, too.  The door flew open, slamming into the far wall and bouncing off it so hard that Bullseye had to throw a hand out to keep it from smacking him in the face.  Bullseye chucked a pair of running shoes across the room to her.  Darcy kept her attention on her captor while the shoes tumbled and bounced across the room, coming to a stop next to her little suitcase.  He gestured to the shoes with the pistol in his other hand.  "Come on then, let's get this show on the road."

Darcy quickly pulled the shoes on, making sure the knots were firmly fastened.  "Nice," she snarked once she was done, pretending like her heart wasn't about to hammer out of her chest, "do they come in red?"

(They weren't a perfect fit, but they were close.  She wanted to ask why he had shoes in--nearly--her size, but held her tongue, preferring to picture the hostile mercenary hauling around a suitcase full of women's shoes.)

(Wade would love that.)

The reminder that there were two (three, with Sha-sha, who still needed to be returned to their home) people waiting for her to survive this ordeal helped firm her spine so that when she stood and faced Bullseye with the little suitcase full of toys at her side, she was only shaking a little.  (As opposed to what her body wanted to do, which was shake so hard that she flew apart into little pieces.)

"Wow, look at you, all packed and ready to go!"  Bullseye laughed.  "What are you going to do with that bag, princess?"

Darcy lifted her chin, meeting his derisive laughter head-on.  "You said you wanted a challenge, right?  You're tired of hunting fish in a barrel with dynamite?  Well then, let's go."

"Hah!"  He laughed again, then used his pistol to motion her past him through the open doorway and into the hallway beyond.  "If you manage to last more than fifteen minutes, it'll be a pleasant surprise.  Tell you what, I'll double your head start and give you thirty minutes instead."

If her sense of time was accurate, it was about a two hour hike from the bunker to the beach.  "Why not full hour, if you're so confident?"  She'd be spending some time setting up the distractions, and laying false trails, but they might be enough to keep him off her tail until she could find her way to the beach.

(Look at her, getting all Bear Grylls up in here.  Like the one episode of Man Against Wild was going to help with this shit.)

Behind her back, Bullseye shrugged as he pushed the barrel of the pistol between her shoulders and used it to direct her to the bunker entrance.  "Sure, fine, whatever.  I'm going to kill you when I find you, no matter who's around, so don't be thinking that going to someplace full of people is going to save your hide."  She stumbled after a particularly hard shove and glared at him over his shoulder.  A nasty shiver ran down her spine when she saw his evil grin. 

"Good to know," she muttered through gritted teeth.  They stopped in front of the solid steel door of the entrance and Bullseye lifted the pistol from her shoulders to set the timer on his watch.  She briefly debated trying to fight for the weapon, but as soon as the idea came up she was dismissing it.  Fight smarter, not harder, she told herself, gripping the small suitcase's plastic handle tightly. 

Bullseye looked up, eyebrows raised, crinkling the scarred target on his forehead.  "Well?" He asked, "The clock is ticking."

Darcy threw open the door and started sprinting down the forest trail.

Once she was out of sight of the bunker, she veered off the path, wincing as the branches pulled on her sunburnt skin, raising stinging welts.  Note to self: next time you get kidnapped in your swimsuit, make sure it's one with support, she thought as her rapid pace started to pull in places that were definitely not used to so much bouncing. 

She stopped a little ways from the trail and set her first distractor; a battery operated pet that operated on a timer, tucked away in a patch of tall dead grass that rustled loudly at the slightest movement.  Then she retraced the path of purposefully broken twigs back to the forest trail and continued to lay time-wasting traps.  The next diversion was a little bit less obvious, but not by much. 

Hopefully he doesn't have mutant powers, she mused as she tossed the brightly colored stuffed fish into a tree where the bright colors would hopefully draw his attention and have him trying to climb after her.  This is all wasted if he's got super senses or something. 

She continued to lay the false trails, switching up how obvious the trail was, hoping that he would have to back track and second-guess every broken twig and stripped branch.

All too quickly the little suitcase ran empty.  She continued to lay the false trails, but time had to be running out soon, and she had no idea how far away the beach was.  Then, finally, a stroke of luck as one of her side-trails led her to a wide river, one large enough that it obviously lead to the ocean.

Making a split-second decision (hoping she wouldn't regret it later), Darcy hurled the small suitcase as far as she could, watching it sail over the water and land in the marshy grass on the opposite shore.  Faintly in the distance, a gunshot echoed, followed by loud, irate shouting.

Darcy swam for the far back and laid down one last false trail, tucking the suitcase away in the branches of a tree before making her way back to the river.  She stopped long enough to smear mud over her brightly colored bikini, then slid into the water once more, letting the current do most of the work for her as she swum downstream, careful to stick to the shallows to avoid being carried away like earlier this morning.  (Had it really only been this morning?)

She stopped for a rest, taking cover next to a large tree that tipped over the river, the water having washed away most of the dirt around its roots.  The dark wood was nearly the same color as her dark hair, and she hoped that it would provide some camouflage while she caught her breath.

“Heimdall, buddy,” she whispered under her breath, casting her gaze to the darkening sky.  “Any chance you can help me out here?  Anything you can send over to help me out?”  Regret and worry brushed her mind, followed quickly by a sense of firm encouragement.  She nodded, resting her forehead against a moss-covered root.  For whatever reason, he couldn’t help, but on the other hand, he didn’t think her situation was impossible.  “Thanks anyway, I appreciate it.”

No Deus Ex Bifrost to help her out here.  Darcy pushed away from the tree and continued to make her way downstream, thankful for the shoes that protected her feet as she swam/crept her way through the shallower waters.


	13. I wasn't going to get a brain transplant (but then I changed my mind)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Bucky set off to find Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't really have any brainpower for cute titles, so groan-worthy puns will do.

Wade had difficulty dodging the grabby hands of the five-or-six year old (ish? Maybe?) trying to pull his mask free from where it was tucked into the neck of his suit.  Bucky caught his gaze in the polished metal of the elevator and smirked.

"Don't think I don't see you laughing at me behind your murder mask, Smoochie-poo."  Wade dodged another insistent grab, snatching the kid's hands in one of his and shaking his head firmly.  "No." 

The child narrowed their eyes, brow ridges pulling together as they pouted in clear frustration.  They spoke sternly, pointing at his mask, then crossing their arms over their chest and sliding their full weight back against Wade's arm supporting them on his hip.  

"Bossy, aren't you?"  Wade asked as the elevators to the room slid open with a 'ding' and the kid reacted immediately, hiding their face in his shoulder and covering their head with their arms.  Both men watched the panicked reaction with identical confused expressions for so long that the doors started to close.  Bucky's metal arm shot out, grabbing the edge of one of the doors and pushing it open with so much force that the metal crumpled under his fingers.

"This is weird, right?"  Wade ducked out of the library and into a nearby small alcove, Bucky following closely behind and hovering over them, providing a physical barrier to hide the two from any curious passers-by.

"It's weird," Bucky confirmed.  As his shadow fell over the kid, they peeked out from behind the shelter of their arms.  The black face paint was smeared, and their eyes were brimming with not-quite-tears.  "Wade, I think the kid is scared."  Before Bucky even finished speaking, Wade was rubbing the kid's back and making comforting shushing sounds.  

"You think it's the masks?"  

Bucky thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.  "I think it's because of Bullseye and Typhoid Mary.  I don't blame 'em, I wouldn't want to go back to them either if I had the choice."  

"We're not going to hand you over," Wade told the kid, patting their back comfortingly.  "That's not going to happen, period, dot, end of sentence.  Plus Darcy would literally have our guts for garters if we let that happen."  They rubbed at their not quite tearing eyes, understanding Wade's comforting tone, if not his actual words. 

"Not literally."  Bucky stopped and thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.  "Maybe literally."  Wade looked at him and arched an eyebrow.  "Definitely literally.  She would literally have no problem doing that."

"Damn straight," Wade said, sounding downright proud.  "But it might be a good idea to get the kid a hat or something to hide their face.  If we walk around with a Atlantean kid, that's going to draw a lot of attention."

"Wade."  Bucky raised a hand and waved a pointed finger at the two of them, fully masked up and carrying more weaponry than a paranoid sovereign citizen.  "We're not exactly incognito, here."  

The mercenary shrugged.  "I go everywhere in the suit; there's no such thing as incognito for me.  But it might make the kid feel better," he added.  

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, then jerked his thumb at a room on the far side of the lobby.  "Let's hit up the gift shop and see what they have, then."  As they moved out of the small alcove and over to the gift shop, Bucky glanced at Wade, his mask and goggles hiding the curious look.  "You're pretty good with kids," he remarked off-handedly, trying his best to hide the rabid curiosity that ate at the edges of his brain.

Wade shrugged, nodding a hello to the gift shop clerk who was appropriately frightened by the sight of two heavily armed and masked men entering the space crowded with knick-knacks and mass-produced clothing.  "I'm about 15% a father, I think.  The whole 'mostly movie me, some comic book me' thing."

Behind him, Bucky mouthed silently '15% a father?'

"But even the 15% me isn't really a full-time dad," Wade continued, oblivious to his partner's befuddlement as he handed a long-sleeved shirt with a cartoon shark on it to the kid on his hip (might as well keep to that aquatic theme, right?).  "Plus we have a freaked out kid, a kidnapped girlfriend, and two criminals to deliver some pain to.  Adapt and overcome is the name of the game, am I right?"  A wide-brimmed sun hat and a pair of sunglasses with stars for the frames was added to the pile of clothing in the kid's arms.  As they headed to the check-out counter, they passed a display filled with bottles of green-tinted aloe vera gel.  The kid reached out and snatched one of the bottles, pushing it in Wade's face and chattering excitedly.  They tapped the blue cap of the bottle against one of the small brown patches on their green skin, then shook it in his face again.  "So that's...  some kind of burn?"  Wade asked, adding it to the pile of merchandise on the counter.

The clerk, a middle-aged and portly man, once he noticed the kid in Wade's arms, ignored the fully armed men in his store in favor of staring at the small child as he scanned the items thrown on his counter.  He told them the total and collected the money Wade threw on the counter without bothering to count it.  

_"_ _Ito ang hiyas,_ " the man breathed in a reverential tone.  The child in Wade's arms perked up at the softly spoken words, their head whipping around to stare at him with their inky black, bottomless eyes.  They chattered at the clerk and gestured excitedly with their hands.  The clerk listened to the kid's excited ramblings carefully, then shook his head and shrugged.  He said something to them in his native language, then turned his attention to her temporary guardians.  "I'm not very fluent in the Uhari language," he said apologetically, "but the beloved Jewel thanks you for helping them in this difficult time and wants you to know that they want you to rescue a woman known as 'Darcy' from-" a pause, then the man spoke rapidly to the kid in Wade's arms, who replied rapidly, using one hand to gesture as the other wrapped around Wade's neck as an anchor.  "Rescue Darcy from the very, very, very bad people."

Wade shot a glance at Bucky over his shoulder.  This was the first open line of communication they'd had with the small child since taking custody of them.  Bucky leaned over, placing a hand on Wade's free shoulder and speaking to the clerk.  "We appreciate your help.  Please let..." He glanced at the kid, who was staring at him with large black eyes and smeared black face paint over their green, scaled skin.  "Please let  _hiyas_ -" he tried his best to imitate the clerk's pronunciation, "know that we treasure Darcy and will do our best to keep her from falling into harms' way." 

A thought struck Wade and he glanced at Bucky, who as if sensing his wayward thoughts, narrowed his eyes behind the opaque ruby lenses and shook his head.  "Okay," Wade said, turning his attention back to the clerk, "Also, we are apparently not going to kidnap you and keep you as a personal translator for the kid here."

"That... is very reassuing," the clerk said, clearly taken aback by Wade's uncharacteristic expression of goodwill.  Wade smiled and shrugged, listening intently as the clerk translated Wade's promises to the child in his arms.  The kid turned to their erstwhile translator and spoke rapidly, waving their hands about.  The kid spat out a rapid burst of words at the clerk, and was met with a burst of words and gesturing hands as well.  Once the clerk finished- arguing their case?  Wade really had no idea- speaking, they listened to the kid's retort.  There was a rapid-fire exchange between the two, then the clerk was turning back to Wade and Bucky.  "The beloved Jewel wishes that you would go on and rescue Darcy now and please disregard concerns for the Jewel's safety.  I must disagree-"

It was Bucky who silenced the clerk, slicing his hand through the air as if he could cut the conversation's roots at the source.  "No." He told the clerk, a simple sentence that cut off the kid's- the  _hiyas_ 's argument off at the pass.  "You're going to disagree, I'm going to disagree, we're all going to disagree.  Wade's right.  We're going to go get Darcy, and we're going to keep the kid away from them.  Nothing else is important."  The gift shop clerk translated Bucky's vow, stuttering slightly.  The kid turned to Bucky and grinned, a wide slash across their face that proudly displayed rows of sharp, pointed teeth.  They nodded, pointing in the general direction where the hidden bunker lay.

"I got it," Bucky told the gift shop clerk as Wade stood guard outside of a small dressing room while the kid changed into ~~the kid into~~  their new clothes, then smeared their mottled green and brown skin with a thick layer of aloe vera.  

The clerk sighed heavily, his head dropping into his hands, elbows braced on the counter.  "If anything should happen to the Jewel, it would be a disaster."  He muttered, more to himself then to either of the other men.  Bucky turned his attention away from where the kid was playing with the racks of cheap tourist toys and toward the clearly distraught clerk.  "It will be war."

"Wouldn't be the first," Bucky muttered to himself, following Wade as the other man skipped (literally skipped) out the door, the newly disguised kid or hiyas or Jewel or whatever riding piggy-back, sharp white teeth bared in a smile that almost literally split the kid's face in half.


	14. Darcy's totally writing a survival guide after this (step one: get a tracking chip implant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the benefits of being on a remote tropical island is that it's remote. The downside.... is that you can lose civilization pretty damn easily.

The sun was setting, a red half-circle sinking into the ocean. Its reflection was rippled and distorted as though it was dissolving in the dark waters.

Darcy didn't have any time to appreciate the poetry of the scene. She was wading through the river, feeling the ground under her feet shift from mud to broken rock and sand. She reached the beach, though she wasn't certain that it was the same beach she'd started her day on. The dim light was making it tough to recognize the landscape and the sliver of moon was doing crap-all to make it better. To her left was the beach and potential civilization. To the right was a a rocky cliff that grew steadily higher and steeper the further it went. Underneath the cliff, the water was littered with jagged, sharp rocks that broke up the waves into something that looked like it would at least be manageable. Darcy turned right, following the cliff and using the stones to block her from sight. If nothing else, it seemed like the best way to lose her pursuer.

The ground dropped underneath her feet; occasionally Darcy would catch her foot on a rock that projected higher than the rest, but far sooner than she would have liked she was swimming through the rocky waters. The temperature of the water dropped as the sliver of a moon climbed higher in the night sky and started to leech the warmth from her bare skin. "Shit," she grumbled through chattering teeth, pausing in her journey to cling to one of the larger rocks.

She'd managed to make it out of sight from the beach, but there was no telling how far the cliff extended. Cold and exhaustion were seeping the strength from her muscles and she wasn't sure she would be able to keep her head above water all night long.

Darcy pulled away from her brief resting spot and started to follow the cliff edge once more. Fortune smiled upon her as she rounded the next bend; the surf had carved a small cave into the jagged rock. Her feet touched solid ground once more as she swam into it and when the little cave took a slight curve it revealed a welcome sight to her sore eyes. A small platform made of smooth rock, perfect for taking a break. She pulled herself out of the water and onto the platform. Coming out of the cold water and into a small cove sheltered from the wind, she could feel herself warming up almost immediately. She wrapped her arms around her torso and rubbed her sides briskly, cursing herself for choosing the sexy and utterly impractical bikini instead of a sturdy one piece. But then, she hadn't exaclty planned to be kidnapped and chased through the woods by a freaking maniac who had a hard-on for murder.

(Semi-hypocritical of her to judge, since the same description also could be used for Wade.)

"Next time Tony offers to microchip you, say yes," she grumbled to herself as she curled up on the bare stone and let the exhaustion carry her into a shallow doze.

\---..---

(Let's rewind a couple of hours.)

The sun was beginning its slow, gentle slide into the ocean depths. It was a beautiful sight that neither man appreciated, due to more pressing concerns; a beloved companion in the hands of murderers and a lost child clearly far from home. Bucky thought of the child Wade was hauling on his back,staring down the quickly darkening forest trail with pitch black eyes as they grumpily fought the pull of exhaustion. Wade was making idle chatter, but from the running theme of blood, death, and dismemberment, it was clear that he had murder on his mind.

Which was not to say that Bucky wasn't entertaining his own vengeful thoughts, though he refrained from voicing them aloud like Wade. Instead he stalked through the forest, feeling a cold detatchment come over him. It was better thanthe constant nagging anxiety that hovered at the edges. The crunch of cheap plastic beneath his boot heel was barely audible over Wade's gleeful description of the vicious punishment that awaited anyone who dared to even make Darcy mildly upset. Bucky grabbed Wade's shoulder again and pulled him back a couple of steps.

"And then I'm going to tattoo the screenplay of Trolls 2 over their entire body- Entire. Body. Smoochie-poo. Lucky Diamond Rich levels of tattoo, here. Then I'm going to rub chewed tobacco into each and every inch." Wade made a gesture with his thumb like he was squashing an ant before glancing up at Bucky. "What's up?"

Bucky pointed to the trail in front of them, where pieces of a broken toy were scattered in the dirt, one of the larger pieces transformed into several smaller ones thanks to the thick heel of his boot.

"What the hell?" Wade poked at one of the pieces with the toe of his own boot, flipping it over. "These weren't here the last time we were up this way. What do you think happened?"

He shrugged. "Maybe one of the local kids wandered up here?" It didn't really make sense that a kid would wander up here just to destroy one of their toys and scatter the pieces like animal bones, but he didn't know what kids were into these days.

"Damn it." Wade started walking again. "If we keep rescuing more kids, we're going to have to open a daycare. Think we could get the Avengers to play nanny to them?"

Bucky shrugged again as he strode forward to walk side-by-side with Wade and his living backpack. The kid craned their neck to look at the debris left behind, then turned to the front again, mumbling something into the neck of Wade's suit.

A short while later, they passed the ruins of a stuffed animal, bright polyester fabric and white stuffing flung all over the path. The destruction continued the further up the path they went, as if the forest path had been the site of a toy massacre. "Curiouser and curiouser," Wade clucked his tongue as he stepped over a motorized fish that was flopping in a circle through the dirt in an unnervingly accurate imitation of a real beached fish.

The source of the madness was soon apparent as a steady stream of cursing increased in volume off the side of the trail. The cursing was accompanied by rustling and breaking of branches. Wade slipped into the foliage on the opposite side of the trail, softly urging the kid down from his back and behind one of the larger trees. Meanwhile, Bucky shuffled silently away from their hiding spot, drawing and aiming a heavy caliber pistol at the oncoming noise. He was surprised (but not that surprised, to be honest) when the prick who had grabbed Darcy burst from the treeline, throwing another cheap plastic toy onto the ground and stomping on it viciously. It spat out a cheery tune that switched with every stomping movement, then abruptly cut off as the toy shattered under his boot.

"You done?" Bucky asked.

Bullseye jumped back and went to grab for a weapon but halted when he noted the slate grey barrel aimed at his chest. Instead he slowly raised his hands to shoulder level, smirking at Bucky. "You're a little early to the party. You weren't supposed to join us until after I'd left her pretty corpse in that swank hotel suite of yours."

Shots fired.

Literally.

Two shots, so close together that they were nearly the same instant. The shot from Bucky's high caliber pistol shattered one of his shins while Wade's shot sent one shoulder jerking forward and a blood red flower bloomed on the hideous Hawaiian shirt. Bullseye's shout of pain echoed through the trail and he staggered. Wade stepped out of the bushes and snapped a kick at the knee of Bullseye's injured leg, grabbing the villain's free hand as he fell to his knees.

"You know," Wade said casually over the yelp of pain as he stepped on the back of Bullseye's shattered leg, "I almost feel bad for you getting owned so easily, except-" He shifted more weight onto his foot and twisted it slightly- "except I'm finding that no, no I don't feel bad at all. Honestly man, I don't know why you even bothered. After the last time we threw down, you should have just cut your losses and ran. Made your excuses to whoever it is that hired you and got the hell out of Dodge."

Bucky glanced behind Wade and caught sight of the kid peeking out of their hiding spot. "Wade," he said quietly. "He doesn't have her." (Not that he cared what Wade might do to the man, he didn't give a shit. But he was pretty sure that Wade wouldn't want to traumatize the kid any more than they had been already.)

Wade looked over his shoulder, manic grin clearly visible through his mask. "Not the point, Smoochie-poo. The point is that he took her in the first place." He leaned further into the wounded man, speaking calmly over the ensuing yells. "Though from the look of it, she managed to get free on her own. You might need to think about retiring, buddy. Clearly you don't have what it takes anymore."

"Wade," Bucky murmured again.

Wade paused for a moment, then sighed. He took his foot off Bullseye's leg and wrapped his other hand around the man's elbow and twisted it while yanking, yard. Bullseye shouted again as his other shoulder was dislocated. Wade loosened his grip, smiling grimly at the sight of both of Bullseye's arms hanging limply at his sides. He stepped around and crouched in front of the injured man, pulling his mask off so that the other man could see how sincere his next words were. "The last time we fought, we were trying to kill each other and it was fun." He chuckled, but the skin around his eyes was tight with fury. "But the next time you think about touching anyone important to me, you had better know how to bring me down for good."

A hoarse chuckle rumbled from Bullseye's chest. "Never thought I'd see the day you went soft." He smirked at Wade and shifted back until he was sitting on his ass, arms flopped awkwardly onto the ground next to him. "Maybe I'll spread the word around to everyone about your little side piece. Someone will put a price on her head just to get even with you. I won't have to lift a finger."

Bucky huffed an exasperated sigh. Just because Bullseye didn't have Darcy didn't automatically mean that she was safe. There was still the woman to contend with. He aimed the pistol, focused down the sights, and fired. The bullet whined past Wade and clipped Bullseye's ear, sending a small trickle of blood to join the large red patch on his shoulder. They both turned shocked gazes at him, clearly having forgotten he was there. "Where's your partner?"

Bullseye blinked vacantly at him for a moment, then an evil smirk slowly crept over his face. "She's hunting the girl, too. Maybe she got lucky while the two of you were farting around."

Wade cursed, rising to his feet and pulling his mask back over his face. "We need to find her." He looked down at Bullseye, who was still smirking, and used the heel of his boot to shove the injured man off balance, sending him to the ground with a heavy thump that had him wheezing for breath. "Doesn't look like hit anything major. You'll probably be found before you bleed out." He paused, tilting his head as he considered their remote surroundings. "Probably."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky Diamond Rich is the person who currently holds the Guinness Book World Record for Most Tattooed Man (100%! O_O)
> 
> Bullseye (as Hawkeye in Dark Reign) and Deadpool fight in Deadpool Vol 2, issues 10-12 and it is amazing and hilarious.


	15. Darcy's not ashamed to accept help from a little Deus ex Machina (Or in this case, Femina ex Fantastica?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another fight. A rescue that isn't quite unexpected if you know your way around marvel.wikia.com

Once they were out of Bullseye's reach, the kid pulled free of Bucky's grip, jumping down to the ground. They paused for a moment, then grabbed his belt with their webbed hand. That was fine with Bucky, it allowed him to keep his hands free to deal with any potential problems.

Wade leapt through the trees and brush like a startled gazelle, bounding this way and that as he followed the false trails Darcy had laid down. Bucky kept pace on the main trail, his senses alert and ready for the appearance of the other half of the malicious duo.

Typhoid Mary stubbornly refused to show up, and even worse, so did Darcy. Bucky felt a tug on his belt and glanced down to catch the kid about to faceplant into the ground. He snatched the small child up before they had the chance to eat dirt, propping them back up on his hip. They blinked slowly, pale white membranes covering the large black eyes as their head drooped down so far their chin nearly touched their chest. All pretty clear signs of exhaustion in the non-human child. Bucky shifted the kid around a bit, cradling them against his chest so that they could lay their head on his shoulder. They mumbled something slurred that would probably be incomprehensible even if he did speak their language, waving their hands around for a bit before reaching up and patting one hand on his face. The skin of their palm had a strange, rubbery texture, like the smooth side of a tire. Bucky hummed his own nonsense reply and the kid shifted around a bit in his arms before settling into a more comfortable position.

Wade popped out of the brush and back onto the trail, brushing off the small leafy twigs that had somehow gotten stuck onto various spots of his suit. "No sign of her," he told Bucky. He'd put his mask back on, but it did nothing to disguise his worry. "Maybe she made it back to the hotel and is waiting for us."

"It's possible," Bucky replied, scanning the forest even though he knew it was useless. They had gone over the trail forwards and back at least three times now, to no avail. Wherever Darcy was, she wasn't in this stretch of woods. Even Bullseye had managed to hobble away and back under whatever rock he had crawled out from under. "Why don't you go back and check it out? I'll back-track over the beach with the kid, just in case.

"Roger-Doger!" Wade snapped off a sharp salute and started to poke at his teleporter. He paused halfway through, hand overing over the buttons, before crossing the small distance between them with large strides. The red-suited mercenary reached up to pull his mask high enough to reveal his face, then gingerly reached out and placed his hands over Bucky's face, cupping the other man's jaw while resting his forehead over the patch of skin exposed above the red goggles.

Their foreheads resting against each other, Bucky was close enough to look past the white lenses of the mask and see the serious, desperate look in Wade's eyes. Without drawing away, Wade reached up and unlatched Bucky's face piece, pulling it down and letting it drop onto his chest. As soon as it was gone, Bucky pushed forward, pressing a hard kiss to Wade's lips. He wanted to comfort his partner, to let the other man know that he was just as concerned about Darcy. But didn't have the right words to assauge his fears and didn't think that there even were any words in any language that would effectively communicate how he felt. Wade tightened his grip on Bucky's head, burying fingers in his dark hair and digging blunt fingernails into his scalp as he returned the kiss with the same, if not more intensity.

Just as he had initiated it, Bucky was the first to pull free from the desperate kiss. He brushed his lips along the scarred skin over Wade's cheekbone, settling their faces together so that his lips just brushed the other man's ear. "We'll find her," he said quietly, a tone that would have been inaudible to anyone else. He felt Wade's subtle nod, then Wade was stepping back, fixing Bucky's face piece back in place with gentle fingers before Wade pulled his own mask down to cover his face.

"Arrevederci, sayanora, aloha and goodbye," the merc said and it was obvious that his cheery tone was forced but at least it wasn't obviously laced with desolation and despair.

Bucky watched as Wade finished programming the teleporter and vanished in the blink of an eye. The kid in his arms shifted and mumbled something in their sleep. He waited for them to settle back fully into sleep before heading down the hill to the beach.

\----..---

The hotel room was empty when Deadpool teleported into the main living area. It was past dawn, well into the morning, and housekeeping had already been by. They had left a fruit basket behind, with various tropical fruits cut into decorative shapes. Wade picked up a piece of starfruit and pulled his mask up high enough to uncover his mouth. He munched on the sweet fruit as he skulked through the suite, but it was painfully clear that wherever Darcy had gone, she hadn't been able to make it here.

Maybe she was still on her way. It made more sense to walk back to the beach rather than teleport to where he'd left Bucky and clear ground the other man had already cleared. Wade swallowed the final bite of fruit and tugged his mask back into place, slipping out the front door and directly to an elevator.

Once he reached the ground floor and walked into the hotel lobby, an extremely welcome sight met his eyes and made him feel like the first shower after a week camping out in the middle of the desert. (It was refreshing. The sight of Darcy's familiar dark brown curls was refreshing, okay? Happy now? Of course you are, you bunch of saps.) She was standing at the front desk, talking with the clerk. Wade didn't recognize the tall woman standing next to her, but he chose to ignore the other woman's presence as he danced across the lobby and threw his arms around Darcy's shoulders from behind.

"What the hell?!" Darcy screeched, and even her screech was like music (like, EDM music programmed by mice high on PCP, but you know, when you're smitten, everything is music) to his ears.

"I'm so glad you're safe, D-Lew, you have no fucking idea." He buried his nose into the crown of her head and inhaled deeply. (Huh. Weird.) Something was... off. His suspicions quickly took a back seat to more physical sensations as she turned around in his grip and wrapped her arms around him, pressing those luscious curves against him in a way that made him drool.

She pulled back just far enough so that she was able to meet his gaze. To his immediate confusion and consternation, he noticed the tears welling in her eyes and the way she barely held back her sniffles. "Oh Wade, it was so terrible! I never would have been able to make it out on my own!"

The little voices in his head started to throw out red flags like overstimulated referees.

"I was so lucky that Llyra here found me in that awful bunker. She snuck me out while the other two were sleeping, and I came back here to hide."

Red flag.

RED FLAG.

RED FUCKING FLAG.

ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION YOU SON OF A BITCH?! RED FUCKING FLAG OVER HERE!

Wade pulled away from the woman in his arms, hiding his retreat by brushing a hand over her face and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "You poor thing," he crooned, chucking her chin for additional affect. "What a terrible experience. Don't you worry, your Smoochie-poo is here to make things all better."

Darcy simpered, rapidly blinking her eyelashes up at him as she smiled coyly. "Could you take me to our room, Smoochie-poo? This inconsiderate piece of shit won't let me in without any ID, even though I told him that I lost it on the beach." The inconsiderate piece of shit in question, the front desk attendant, tightened her lips into a thin white line at the insult, focusing her glare at the dark wood of the counter in front of her.

Wade stroked a gloved hand over Darcy's hair, caressing her face and wrapping his hand around her neck. With a twist of his wrist, he had a handful of her hair solidly wrapped around his fist and twined through his fingers. He used it to pull her head back until she was staring at him wide-eyed from the bottom of her eyes, fear pulling her breath short in her lungs. "Smoochie-poo? What are you doing? You're scaring me!" She whimpered, her voice cracking with fear. Her companion stepped forward, but was halted in their movement when the barrel of Wade's large caliber pistol (hehe, no, his other one) pushed against the stranger's sternum. Darcy's frightened gaze flicked from the blank white eyes of his mask to her companion and back again. "Wade?" She asked, her voice quavering and the tears hovering in her eyes spilling forward in large volumous drops.

"Darcy," Wade said, pitching his voice so that it was low and intimate, a pitch that he knew reached out to Darcy's uterus and plucked the strings there, hard. "My sweet, sweet Darcy." He leaned in close, crouching over her, all the while keeping his gun pressed firmly into the stranger's torso. "My sweet Darcy would never, _never_ wait for someone to rescue her. You messed up."

The body under his shimmered and rippled, until it was Typhoid Mary with her fire-red hair and bone-white face glaring up at him. "You cottoned on quicker than I thought you would, Smoochie-poo." The pet name (which wasn't even his pet name, red flag number one) dripped from her lips like poison. "Looks like you've stopped thinking with your dick."

"Well," Wade drawled, a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't say that. But you don't know Darcy as well as you knew Vanessa. You threw up enough red flags to trigger a whole herd of bulls into chasing you down Pomona. I could list them all, but it would be the good guy equivalent of revealing my evil plot to the hero."

"Good guy," Typhoid Mary scoffed, rolling her eyes. "As if. You're the same scum you've always been, Deadpool. You're a fool if you think that these idiot idealists will ever accept you into their ranks. You might as well accept the fact that you're the same dirtbag you've always been and stop trying to pretend to be a hero." The hand in her hair jerked, hard, as Wade flinched at the cruel accusation. The only sign of pain Typhoid Mary showed was a tightening of her lips into a thin, white line.

The stranger, Llyra, reached for the gun. Wade turned his attention to her and Typhoid Mary took advantage of the distraction to grab his wrist, twisting it until he was forced to release his grip on her hair. Wade tried to step back and gain some distance, but Typhoid Mary refused to let his arm go, instead using it as leverage to throw her legs up and deliver a drop kick to his sternum.

He flew backwards and landed in a nearby chair hard enough to send it skidding a couple of feet over the (probably very expensive) hardwood floors. Wade took a moment to grimace at the scarred wood before popping back up to his feet.

Llyra glanced at the two of them, then sighed and shook her head. "It is obvious that the child is not here. Join me after you take care of-" she waved a hand at Wade- "that." With that grand proclamation, the stranger strode out of the lobby.

Wade started to follow but found his attempts quickly twarted by a sharp blade hurtling past his face and clipping off the tip of his nose. It landed in a nearby pillar, buried up to nearly the full length of the blade. What was left shook from the force of the impact. He followed the trail back to Typhoid Mary, who was pulling a pair of large, Rambo-esque combat knives from... somewhere and crossing the lobby to him. (He had learned a long time ago to never question where women hid their deadly weapons.)

Wade aimed his gun at the rapidly approaching woman, noticing just before pulling the trigger that the barrel of the gun was crimped from where the other woman had grabbed it. "That was my seventeenth favorite gun," he grumbled, dropping it to the ground. (What, you thought he was going to bring his top ten or even top fifteen on a fanfic quest? As if.) He grabbed one of the small side tables and hurled at Typhoid Mary to buy himself some time to draw his own shiny blades. (This is better anyway, we already showed off our gun-fu with Bullseye.)

_By shooting at an unarmed... unable to be armed... not yet disarmed... Whatever, he didn't have a weapon._

Wade mentally flipped the bird at his dissenting voice and brought his focus back to Typhoid Mary just in time to see her use the flying side table as a spring board for a flip into the air that ended with the steel-edged heel of a combat boot headed straight for his nose, which had just finished regrowing the tip she cut off. He side-stepped out of the way and tried to slice her and dice her like Billy Mays and-

_Nope, you're getting too cute with the references now. We're done here. There was a fight, we won. Go practice your fight scenes somewhere else._

"That's the thing, Mary." Wade huffed, holding a hand over his stomach to keep his innards from becoming outards. "I never said I was trying to be a good guy. Just a little bit less bad."

The cool comeback was wasted, since his foe was currently lying unconscious on the lobby floor.  (Life was so unfair sometimes.)

\---..---

Darcy opened her eyes and catalogued all her various physical aches and pains. There was the sunburn, which was starting to blister since she hadn't been able to treat it beyond a thin layer of aloe vera followed by a lengthy salt water bath. There was the aches from muscles she wasn't used to using since being chased through the woods by a psychopath wasn't a part of her regular exercise regimene, nor was trying to fight her way through rock-strewn shoals. Plus a general fatigue from the adrenaline crash followed by a restless night's sleep.

Her stomach growled and she grimaced as it cramped as if protesting it's emptiness. Hunger, she added to her mental tally of physical complaints, brushing her hand over her sunburnt skin and wincing. She should probably move on before she was too weak to push through the currents. So now the question at hand was, should she double back and hope that Bullseye had succumbed to boredom or a random fatal brain aneurysm? Or that (more likely) Wade and Bucky had backtracked and given him a proper greeting now that they didn't have to protect the civilians.

On the other hand, if none of those things had happened, she might be putting herself right back into the path of danger. If she kept going the way she had been, she might circle around the cliffs and find civilization again. How well did Bullseye know the island? Would he be able to find his way to the other side of the cliffs? Furthermore, would she even be able to get there in one piece? There was no way she would be able to swim past the cliffs without the shoals to break up the current. At least if she went back, she knew she would be able to make it to the shore in one piece.

Darcy was standing on the ledge of the small cavern, staring into the water and chewing on her lip as she tried to decide which path was the least likely to end up with her head mounted on Bullseye's wall. A dark shape appeared in the distance, barely visible through the clear blue waters. It drew closer, finally drawing her attention when it was the size of a large dog. (Not that it was dog-shaped. It was blobby, blob-shaped.) She stepped back from the ledge, watching warily as it drew closer, aiming for the small cavern where she had found refuge.

The dark blob emerged from the water as a clear sphere, the size of a small car, with two golden-haired women inside. One was in a scale-covered leotard and wore a vaguely familiar looking golden crown with polished green stones. The other was immediately familiar thanks to the distinctive blue and white uniform.

"Sue Storm?" Darcy rubbed at her eyes, wondering if she had finally fallen victim to delusions thanks to her weakened state. "Sue Storm? Really? And..." Darcy trailed off, trying to place the statuesque woman with the delicately pointed ears standing next to the Invisible Woman in the invisible sphere.

"Namora," the other woman answered the unspoken question after a long, uncomfortable silence made it clear that Darcy truly had no clue who she was.

"No shit, huh? Wow, that's something. So are you a relative of Namor's? Since you have practically the same name and everything?" Darcy was suddenly, painfully conscious of the fact that she was standing next to two beautiful women and she was definitely being rescued by people who could probably pull off the sunburnt and starving look with a grace far beyond any that she could ever hope to achieve. Instead she did what she did best, took refuge in audacity. "So, are you guys here to rescue me or whatever? Because I was kind of doing an all right job of that on my own. Okay, I wasn't really, but I was like halfway there, so that counts, right?" Darcy blathered, still half-way convinced that she was hallucinating the duo.

Sue held up a hand, bringing Darcy's ramblings to a halt. "We were in the area searching for someone else when we-" she cut her gaze to Namora, who was staring blandly at Darcy- "heard from a cluster of anemones that you were hiding out here. We came to see if you were the one we were looking for, but if you're in trouble we-"another glance at Namora, who had turned to Sue and raised a single golden eyebrow- "I would be glad to escort you to shore."

"Well I could definitely use a ferry back, but there's a bit more to me being out here than just some poor tourist taking a swim and getting in over their head." Darcy paused for a moment and stared at Namora, her brain finally adding up the crown, pointed ears, and small wings on her ankles and belatedly arriving at the appropriate conclusion. "You're an Atlantean!"

"Princess." Namora said, once more quirking a golden brow, like a marine version of Spock. "I am an Atlantean Princess."

"Right, well, your Highness, maybe you can help me out. Because yesterday I found a little green kid peeping on me in my hotel, and it turns out they were being babysit by these two assholes. And it's pretty clear that the assholes stole her, thanks to the help of some green-skinned twatwaffle named Llyra. So my guys took her back, but we got separated, and there's kind of a long story there, but let's just say that if you're looking for a kid, I happen to have found a kid, and not in like a creepy human or Atlantean trafficking way."

"Uhari," Sue interjected, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at the flood of words running from Darcy's mouth. "Wu is one of the Uhari, their leader, in fact."

Darcy stared at them, blinking rapidly. "You... You know Sha-sha." All of a sudden, what little strength she had vanished from her knees, resulting in a slow sink to the ground. "Oh my god. I mean, you guys. Y-You don't even know, I was so worried. I thought Sha-sha was an orphan or something, or being sold to some weirdo who was going to cut them up for parts like for a twisted evil sushi restaurant. I'm so glad that they've got a family to go back to, you have no idea."

Sue and Namora glanced at each other, both of them sharing an uncomfortable grimace. "Well," Sue hesitated, kneeling next to Darcy and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Wu does have a twin sibling. And Namora... is responsible for their daily care."

There were things going on here, undercurrents that Darcy felt she should be able to read, but she was so exhausted, and just mentally drained. It was just enough of her concentration to follow the ongoing conversation and remember the topic of discussion. Trying to untangle the secretive glances Sue and Namora were sharing, as well as Sue's careful choice of words, was just too far beyond Darcy's comprehension right now.

"Tony was lending us his penthouse suite at the hotel," she told the other women, feeling a rush of relief as she remembered the large, soft bed and expansive bath. "We can go there, that's where they'll have taken Sha-sha."

Sue and Namora exchanged a glance that communicated an entire conversation. It was kind of like Darcy was watching a Rule 34 version of Kirk and Spock, and she was totally digging it.

"The hotel of which you speak," Namora spoke first, pinning Darcy with her large green eyes. For the first time, Darcy noticed that her eyes were also larger than normal, more on a scale with Sha-sha's, though the size was not immediately noticeable due to the human-like iris and pupils. "I know this abomination. It is a visual blot on our beautiful landscape."

"Not how I would describe it, but sure." Darcy agreed. Quite frankly, she would agree to just about anything right now to get out of here. "You got room in that bubble for three?" She couldn't see the bubble grow around them (it being, you know, invisible and everything) but she was able to feel it when Sue's powers lifted her away from the rock and gently nudged her towards the other woman. "I get to ride in the Invisible Woman's bubble. Cool." She grinned at Sue and gave her a double thumb's up, earning a slight giggle from the older woman in return.


End file.
